


Blue

by hutchabelle



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Advent Calendar, Advent Challenge, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-01
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-09 11:25:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 24,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12886848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hutchabelle/pseuds/hutchabelle
Summary: Katniss gets more than she bargained for during the Christmas season when she and Peeta, her roommate, team up to give her sister a break.





	1. Advent Calendar

**Author's Note:**

> Part 1 was orginially written for Day 1 of the Christmas challenged hosted by everlarkchristmasgifts on tumblr. Come find me there at hutchhitched.  
> Prompt: Advent Calendar

 

 

 

“Hey, Katniss,” Prim chirps through the phone line, and I close my eyes briefly so I don’t scream.

I love my sister. In fact, until she had children, she was the only person I was certain I loved, but she can be irritatingly cheerful, optimistic, and upbeat, and it is beyond what I can handle right now. I can’t listen to another one of her pep talks. Not now. Not four weeks before Christmas when all I want to do is forget the holidays this year and, if possible, every year from now until the end of time.

“Hey, Primmy,” I mumble and hope she takes the hint, but my baby sister isn’t one for subtlety.

“Did you talk to Mom yet? She signed you up for the casserole exchange, caroling, and gift basket assembly. Since you weren’t at the meeting last week, she took the liberty.” She catches her breath momentarily and then plunges ahead. “I’ll go caroling with you, if you want. You know I don’t mind, but I’m retiring my cooking this year. Gale gets too jealous if I waste my culinary skills on men who don’t deserve it.”

She giggles, and I wince before fake gagging. I’m intensely glad we’re talking on the phone instead of face-timing. She’d never let me get away with mocking her marriage to my ex-boyfriend if she could see me. Gale and I broke up a decade ago, but it’s still weird. I’m squeamish enough they kiss each other, let alone have kids together. That means…ewww, no. I have no interest in even a passing thought of them in bed doing what it takes to make babies.

“Who’s that?”

I jump at the sound of my roommate’s voice. Peeta, my best friend since junior high, sets down two grocery bags and pulls out a pint of ice cream, grabs a spoon, and takes an enormous bite.

Candy cane mint. Ugh. Christmas ice cream. Can’t get away from this stupid holiday.

I mouth my sister’s name to him, and he rolls his eyes. I’m trying hard not to laugh when Prim drops even worse news in a low voice.

“Don’t tell Mom, but Gale and I were wondering if there’s any way you could watch the kids for us for a few days. It’s our anniversary, you know, and it’s so hard to find any time for privacy with them around, and—”

“Eww. Stop talking, Prim. I don’t need to know about your sex life.”

Peeta coughs to cover his laugh and turns his back to me. I throw a balled-up napkin at him, but he doesn’t acknowledge it as his shoulders shake with laughter.

“Sorry, it’s just… Well, we could use some time away. Things have been a little tense between us, and I was hoping…”

“Prim, this isn’t a great time for me. You know how much I hate the holiday season,” I grouse and drum my fingertips on the table.

“Katniss, please. You know Gale and his, uh, appetites as well as anyone—”

“Gross,” I interject, but Prim isn’t dissuaded.

“—and we could really use some time alone. I’ve already done all the Christmas shopping, and the girls are in school almost the entire day anyway. You can still work and take care of them. And then Peeta’s always been great with kids.” Prim stops to catch her breath before wheedling, “Please, Katniss? I’ll get you out of the casserole exchange if you do this for me.”

“Why do I even pretend to like you?” I groan.

“Because I’m your favorite sister, and you love your nieces.”

“You’re my only sister, and I like them a lot more when they live at your house.”

“Thanks, Katniss! Thank you so much. Christmas is so cool with little kids around. I just know you’re going to love it.”

“Wait! When are you leaving? How long will you be gone? Where are you going? I need some details.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll send you an email with everything. The two weeks will flash by.”

“Two weeks! What the hell?”

“’Bye, Katniss! Got to run. Love you!”

Prim ends the call abruptly, and I curse as I slam my phone down on the table.

“Trouble?” Peeta drawls and takes another bite of ice cream.

“That no good, ungrateful, irritating, entitled sister of mine is a scheming, conniving, precocious BRAT!”

“What’s she gotten you into this time?” he sighs. “More importantly, how bad is it for me?”

“That depends. How much do you love helping me with my nieces for two weeks when they come to stay with Aunt Katniss and Uncle Peeta?”

His eyes widen, and he grins broadly. “They still call me Uncle Peeta? When are you going to make an honest man out of me, Katniss? Marry me, and we can have a family of our own. Kids galore. You won’t even notice three who aren’t ours.”

“Shut up,” I snap, but I can’t deny the small tingle of happiness I feel every time he teases me about us being together.

“Oh, come on,” he cajoles as he hands me a spoon and drops down into the chair next to me. “Have some ice cream. It’ll be fun to have them here.”

“Yeah, right,” I grumble. “What are we going to do with them? You know I’m not great with kids, even ones who like me the way Lily, Daisy, and Poppy do. And the flower names. God, Prim and Gale are so pretentious.”

“Environmentalism is a serious issue, Katniss,” Peeta deadpans. “You were named after a plant too, remember.”

“Have I used up my quota today for the number of times I can tell you to shut up?”

“Almost,” he quips and then grabs my hand to squeeze it reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Everdeen. We’ll make a list of things to do with them while they’re here—some sort of Christmas activity. We can do one every day, and the time will fly by. We can plan it out beforehand, so the stress is minimal.”

“You mean like an advent calendar for my nieces?”

“Sure. If that’s what you want to call it.”

“But what kinds of things would we actually do? You’re the creative one. Don’t expect me to come up with any ideas.”

“Hell if I know. Making cookies? Decorating a tree? Making ornaments? They’re young enough everything seems like an adventure right now.”

I glance at him and grin. “You just want an excuse to use glitter and still feel like a man.”

“The use of glitter is greatly underestimated. Gender stereotypes be damned! I like to sparkle.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” I giggle. “We’ll make an advent calendar. You better be on board for staying here this year. No abandoning me for your family.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Katniss, my dear. Now quit worrying,” he orders as he stands up and plants a kiss on my forehead. “I’ll go get some paper, and we’ll figure out what we’re going to do with them. One Christmas Advent Calendar for the Hawthorne girls, coming up!”

“You’re a saint. You know that?” I call after him as he walks down the hall.

“Only when I’m not a sinner,” he retorts. “I deserve a very special Christmas present for this, you know.”

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

“Very special!”


	2. Secret Santa Exchange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Secret Santa Exchanges

 

 

 

“Katniss, have you seen that candle I brought home the other day? The one that looks like Santa?”

 

“You mean this one?”

 

I cringe as I point to the burning candle on the table. I have a feeling Peeta’s about to get really mad. But he doesn’t. Because he’s Peeta, and he’s an effing saint.

 

He plops down next to me on the couch and sighs, “That was my gift for the Secret Santa exchange tonight.”

 

“Shit, I’m sorry. I—I can run to the store and get another one for you.”

 

He grabs my arm when I try to get off the couch, and I smile at him against my will. Those damn blue eyes and golden halo of hair make me want to punch him.

 

“Or…”

 

“Or what? Why am I positive I’m going to hate everything you have to say in the next ten seconds?”

 

“Because you know me so well,” he quips and links his arm through mine. “ _Or_ , oh impatient, snarky one, you could go with me to the party, and I’ll whip up some of my extra special Mellark Mayhem chocolate fudge for a present. Santa candles are dumb anyway.”

 

“Santa candles are not _dumb_ ,” I protest as he tickles me. “Stop! I can’t breathe.”

 

“They are the absolute dumbest! Especially when compared to my extra special Mellark Mayhem chocolate fudge.”

 

“You should trademark that before someone else decides to make Mellark Mayhem a thing.”

 

He snorts and elbows me. “‘Mellark Mayhem a thing.’ So many innuendos. So many inappropriate responses. My ‘thing’ thanks you. Now say you’ll go with me.”

 

“Peeta,” I sigh.

 

“Katniss,” he mimics in his gratingly cheerful way. “Come on. You know you want to help me spread mayhem.”

 

“Mayhem will be here tomorrow morning when Prim and Gale drop off the Hawthorne Hellions as they flee town. I was going to spend this evening enjoying being able to hear my own thoughts, not pretending to be interesting around a bunch of people I don’t know from your office.”

 

“First of all, I work in a gallery, not an office,” he begins. “Second, the food is top notch, and you’ve been whining for ages that you don’t have anything fun to do. That was number three, by the way. Take the deal. You’d get to show up with the best eye candy in the room.  And I’ll make fudge.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, your ‘extra special’ stuff.”

 

“My stuff is extra special. So is my thing. Thank you for seeing that.”

 

I burst into laughter. I can’t help it. Peeta’s so incredibly cocky and humble at the same time, it’s hilarious. And he’s disgustingly endearing with his hopeful grin and puppy dog eyes. And forgiving that I burned up his present. And helpful with my nieces who will be here the next day. And he’s promised fudge.

 

“Fine! Fine, I’ll go with you, but I’m not wearing heels.”

 

“Sure you are! Those gray suede kitten heels you bought last month would be perfect with the blue dress. You know the one.”

 

I gape at him like he’s lost his mind. “I’m not wearing that dress. It shows everything. I should never have let Prim talk me into buying it.”

 

“Prim is a brilliant woman, and it showing things is exactly why I like it,” he teases and winks at me. “And it doesn’t expose any more than a beautiful woman like yourself should. It’s gorgeous, and you look stunning in it. You’re wearing it and the kitten heels because I’ve forgiven you for setting Santa on fire and I made the best advent calendar ever for your nieces. _And_ I’m staying here over Christmas so you don’t have to fight your family alone.”

 

“I hate you sometimes.”

 

“And yet, you adore me,” he responds without missing a beat. “I’m going to go cause mayhem in the kitchen. We leave in three hours. Take a bubble bath, and get ready. I’ll make some banana bread for your Secret Santa gift.”

 

“I don’t like presents.”

 

“You love presents,” he calls over his shoulder as he heads down the hall to the kitchen. “Especially of the secret variety. Not to mention, you owe me!”

 

And he’s right. I do.


	3. Gingerbread

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Gingerbread

 

 

 

“Katniss! They’re here!”

 

Peeta yells from the living room, and I hurry to finish brushing my teeth and run down the stairs.

 

“Aunt Katniss! Aunt Katniss!” the girls screech in a way only young girls can—the kind that makes me want to rip my eyes out of my head and poke an ice pick through my temple. Awesome.

 

“Hi, girls! Hi, Prim.  Gale.” I nod in greeting, and Prim gives me a frazzled hug before Gale drops a hurried kiss on my cheek.

 

“Mellark,” Gale grunts.

 

Peeta takes the bags Prim and Gale hold, kisses Prim on the cheek, and hold his hand out to my brother-in-law. “Hawthorne,” he responds as cheerfully as possible. The two never have liked each other much.

 

“Katniss, you got the email, right?” Prim blurts as she pats her pockets frantically. “Lily has a cold, so she needs to take her medicine every six hours, and Poppy—”

 

“I have warts!”

 

“And Poppy has warts.”

 

Prim looks like she’s about to lose it, so I flash Peeta an apologetic glance and pull her into the kitchen. The girls are dancing in circles around the two men at last glimpse.

 

“Are you okay?” I ask, concerned my normally enthusiastic and unflappable sister seems at the end her rope. I’m more than stunned when she bursts into tears and buries her head in her arms on the kitchen table. “What’s wrong, Little Duck?”

 

“You haven’t called me that in years!” she wails, and I pat her shoulder sympathetically as I wait for her to calm down. It takes a few minutes, but finally she lifts her tear streaked face and confesses, “You have no idea how much I need this vacation, Katniss. I’m so tired.”

 

“Well, two weeks is plenty of time to recover,” I remind her wryly.

 

“You don’t understand. You’ve always got everything so together, and I’m hanging on by a thread. Gale sucks at communicating—you know that—and the girls are so energetic I can hardly get a second to sit down until they go to sleep. Then the laundry and dishes and cooking and _everything_. And work is kicking my ass. No idea why I thought it was a good idea to go back to nursing with three kids under the age of seven. Twelve hour shifts are killer. I’m insane.”

 

“Yes,” I tease, “you are crazy, but you’re crazy in a very good way.”

 

She sniffs and tries hard to tug in her lower lip so she’s not pouting. “How’s that? Even if you’re lying to me, keep doing it. I’ll take anything I can get right now.”

 

“Prim, you’re a wonderful mother, and you’re a very good wife too. An amazing nurse and daughter and sister. You can’t do it all, you know.”

 

“ _You_ can,” she accuses me, envy lacing those two words.

 

“No, I can’t,” I insist. “I don’t have any kids, I’m not married, and Peeta keeps this household running. I’m just along for the ride. He makes me look way better than I really am.”

 

“You should marry him, you know,” Prim observes in such a matter-of-fact way that I cringe. “You two are perfect together, and you’ve acted like a married couple since I can remember. Thankfully, or Gale would still be hung up on you. God, he hated being number two in your life.”

 

“He was number three.” She raises her eyebrows in question, and I gently remind her, “You. Peeta. My top two forever.”

 

She throws herself into my arms and sobs against my neck, “I’m so glad you’re my sister.”

 

I give her a big squeeze and feel all the resentment I’ve felt toward her in the past few months slip away. She clearly needs a little grace right now.

 

“It’s okay, Primmy. Now, dry your eyes, and let’s get you back in there to your husband. You two have an anniversary to celebrate, and I have three Hawthorne Hellions to tame in the next two weeks.” She gives me a watery grin, and I say, “That’s already better. Seriously, sis, go get your groove back on with your man. Uncle Peeta and Aunt Katniss have this all under control. Let us help you.”

 

“You already help me so much,” she whispers, clearly still upset.

 

“We want to. Both of us do,” I assure her. “Let’s go, Mrs. Hawthorne. You’ve got a plane to catch, and a husband to seduce.”

 

Prim wipes her face and gives me another tight hug, and we return to the living room. Gale stands awkwardly in the entryway as the girls chatter excitedly to their “uncle” Peeta. He’s sitting on the floor with them and listening intently to everything they say without any ounce of irritation or impatience. Seriously, a saint.

 

“Come give your mommy and daddy a hug goodbye, girls!” Prim chirps, and they stumble over Peeta to get to her. “We’re going to miss you so much while we’re gone, but Aunt Katniss is going to take wonderful care of you. And we’ll be back in time to get our own Christmas tree before Santa comes, okay?”

 

The girls nod in tandem, and before I can breathe, Prim and Gale are gone. Peeta grins at me as my nieces babble incessantly. I let that go for about five seconds before producing a loud whistle to silence them.

 

“Alright, my darling hellions, listen up! Your uncle Peeta and I have a super-duper cool surprise for you while you’re here. Sound good?”

 

“What is it, Aunt Katniss?” Lily yells.

 

“What’s a hellion?” Poppy shrieks.

 

“How cool is it?” Daisy sing-songs.

 

_Lord, give me patience and a slight hearing loss the next two weeks, please._

 

“It’s so cool,” Peeta announces, “that you’re going to be the envy of every single person in Panem.”

 

“Yay!” they chorus and follow him in a conga line to the kitchen where he shows them the Advent Calendar he made.

 

He explains patiently, “Advent is the four weeks before Christmas, and since today is Sunday and four Sundays from now is Christmas Eve, your aunt Katniss and I made a calendar for you. There’s an activity for every single day we’re together, and then you can finish it up with your mom and dad once they get home. It’ll make the days until Christmas go by so fast, Santa will be here before you know it.”

 

“What are we doing today?” Daisy demands as she squirms with excitement.

 

“Well, let’s open it and find out,” I suggest, and they all grab at the paper. “Youngest first! Go, Poppy!”

 

Poppy’s small hands carefully peel back the window and pull out three small stickers of gingerbread men.

 

“Gingerbread,” they squeal in unison, and Peeta claps his hands with delight.

 

“We have gingerbread men to make. And icing! And then we have sparkles and gumdrops and every other kind of candy you can imagine,” Peeta chortles. “We can make a house too if we have time before bed.”

 

I sit back and watch as my three nieces throw themselves at Peeta to lavish him with wiggly hugs and smacking kisses on his cheeks. His mega-watt smile could power the eastern seaboard, and I send up a silent prayer of gratitude that he’s always in my corner—even when I’m saddled with responsibilities that aren’t my own.

 

As loud and as obnoxious as the girls are, they make the day exciting. It’ll be a long two weeks, but Prim’s right. It might be the coolest Christmas season I’ve had in a long time.


	4. Snowflakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Snowflake

 

 

 

“It’s so quiet,” I breathe into the empty house. Peeta took off work a couple of hours early to pick up the girls from their schools, and I’m beyond thrilled to have a few minutes to myself before they return home.

 

The gingerbread men and house were a massive hit. Peeta got his baker on, and he probably used more than he should have of the sugar sparkles. He’s always loved glitter, but he didn’t appreciate that I snapped his picture of his sparkly face and posted it on social media. However, my followers are in love.

 

_You. Are. Welcome. Instagram._

 

After I change into my normal winter post-work ensemble of ragged jeans and a flannel shirt, I make myself a cup of hot chocolate and gaze out across the back deck. I’ve been a little on edge since Prim and Gale left the day before. Seeing Prim so upset shook me, and I feel bad that Gale left without a proper goodbye. I don’t think he’s ever quite gotten over the fact that his wife is the sister of his ex-girlfriend, and that makes me sad.

 

Gale realized before I did we weren’t great together. We both had too much fire, too much latent anger and snarky attitude to last for long, but we’d been close friends since we’d lost our fathers at an early age, and both of us thought we should give it ago. It didn’t work at all after the initial thrill of something new, and Prim, bless her, tried to play the go-between since she hated seeing both of us miserable. She was exactly what Gale needed, someone sweet but determined, firm but yielding. He resisted for a while, a little freaked out that people who make fun of him for running through the Everdeen girls, but after a while… Well, sometimes love just wins, no matter how weird it is.

 

And sometimes it doesn’t, which is what’s happened for me. Peeta’s been my constant, my default date for everything, but there hasn’t been anyone else—not since Gale and I broke up. I love Peeta as much as anyone can love another person, but I stopped letting myself hope any guy would ever want me when I realized how much my middle-finger-to-the-world attitude shaped the way I viewed everything. I’m all work and no fun, a holdover from too many responsibilities much too early in life. I need to work on my anger issues before I can try to take on anyone else’s baggage.

 

I love it when Peeta teases me, though. He’s always put me first, even when he’s had a short string of steady girlfriends since he was in high school. Dude is popular as hell with girls, and he’s an amazing roommate. I’m convinced it works because he thinks I’m asexual.

 

“Aunt Katniss! It’s snowing!”

 

Shaken from my reverie, I turn to greet my nieces. I hadn’t noticed the flakes drifting down as I’d stared out the window, but Daisy’s right. The first snow of the season has dumped a light dusting on the ground as I sipped my drink.

 

“It is!” I exclaim. “It’s so cold out there.”

 

“Uncle Peeta says we can make a snowman later,” Daisy yells. “Isn’t that the awesome-est?”

 

I shoot Peeta a daggered look, and he grins sheepishly at me.

 

“That is the awesome-est, Daisy Doodle, but I think Uncle Peeta might have been telling a fib,” I explain as sincerely as I can as she clings to my right leg. “I don’t think there’s going to be enough snow today to make a whole snowman.”

 

“But…but…he _promised_!” she wails, and I shake my head at him over her teary eyes.

 

“I think we need to check out that Advent calendar I made for you, sweetheart,” Peeta’s quick to suggest. “If I remember correctly, you are the middle child, and day two means you get to open it.”

 

Her tears vanish instantly, and the three of them, with Peeta in tow, bop and skip to the kitchen where Daisy opens the tab and pulls out three snowflake stickers. Her eyes widen, and she looks at Peeta like he hung the moon.

 

“How did you know, Uncle Peeta?” she gasps, wonder apparent in every word.

 

He grins, so pleased with himself I want to smack him upside the head. “If mean old Aunt Katniss won’t give us enough snow to make a snowman, we’ll make them ourselves.”

 

“Oooooh,” the girls chorus, and within minutes, Peeta has each of them seated at the kitchen table with colored paper and scissors and is instructing them.

 

Poor Poppy’s struggling with her safety scissors, so I sit down next to her to help. Prim and Gale didn’t quite expect Poppy when she came, only 13 months after Daisy. Having a second grader, Kindergartner, and one in preschool all at the same time’s a lot. Hopefully, the two are enjoying their first day away as much as I am watching Peeta trying to control Lily’s frantic cutting. I have to stifle a chuckle every time she grabs another piece of paper.

 

By the time we’re done, the girls have produced a few dozen snowflakes to mix with Peeta’s professional-grade paper cuttings. I put in a call to the local pizza place while we hang them around the downstairs and declare it the Hawthorne Holiday Playground. We eat dinner in the living room with the girls sitting at the coffee table and watch a DVD of cartoons Prim packed for them. Once they’re in bed, I gather the trash and grab a bottle of wine and some glasses before plopping down next to Peeta on the couch.

 

“A snowman? Really?” I scoff as I pour him half a glass of red.

 

Agitated, he sighs and run his fingers through his hair until it sticks straight up in the back. I resist the urge to reach over and smooth it and instead take a massive gulp of my drink.

 

“Sorry about that. They were just so excited. I didn’t mean to make promises I can’t keep. You know that’s not me.”

 

“I know,” I reply softly and lean back into the cushions. “You always keep them.”

 

He flips the channel to a college basketball game and relaxes until his left thigh touches my right. I lean over to rest my head against his shoulder, and we watch the TV until the wine runs out and we stumble to bed. I dream of warm kisses mingled with frosty air as snowflakes fall on my eyelashes.


	5. Christmas Tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Christmas Tree

 

 

“Why is it we’re getting a tree on a Tuesday night?” I ask as Peeta turns carefully into the parking lot at the Christmas tree farm a few miles outside Panem.

 

“Because that’s the day it was in the Advent calendar. Duh,” he teases, and the girls giggle in the backseat. I resist flipping him the bird and keep my mouth shut.

 

“Let’s get the biggest tree ever, Aunt Katniss,” Lily pleads.

 

Peeta answers so I don’t snap, and I’m simultaneously grateful to and irritated with him. Lily doesn’t deserve the full force of my wrath. That’s reserved for my roommate on my bad days.

 

“We’ll get the biggest one that will fit in our house, Lovely Lily. I promise,” he assures her and glances nervously over at me. I huff but don’t respond, and he sighs as he shifts the car into park and turns it off. “Let’s go, girls. Who’s ready for a ride on a wagon?”

 

“Meeeee!!!” the hellions scream, and he ushers them toward the entrance.

 

I sit in the car for a few moments. I just need a couple of seconds to regroup from the fury that bubbled up when I realized what Peeta’d planned for today. There is no earthly reason we should be doing this on a weeknight. Saturday would have been lovely, but that’s not the way he organized the calendar. The girls are going to be a mess tomorrow, and I’m irrationally pissed at Peeta for that. I’m exhausted beyond belief, and I don’t feel like being rational right now. Never mind, they’re my nieces, not his, and he’s been more than responsible and kind and helpful with them so far.

 

“I can be such a bitch sometimes,” I mutter and hurry to catch up with the rest of them.

 

The girls and Peeta are all rosy cheeks and smiles as we ride to the rows of groomed trees. They run among the evergreens, and I have to smile at the pure joy they exude as they immediately select every tree they see. Thank goodness Peeta furtively directs them away from trees that are much too tall or have massive holes in the branches no amount of decorations and lights can hide.

 

He’s clearly had some practice at this, while I always relied on the half-broken artificial tree Mom brought down from the attic the day after Thanksgiving until Peeta and I moved in together. Even then, he always brought one home and had it set up by the time I was back from work. I’d only ever had to help decorate, which really meant I’d sat on the couch and downed adult beverages while I directed him in where to place the ornaments—which, to be fair, he mostly ignored. He’s the artist in this friendship, after all.

 

“Everything okay?” Peeta asks softly as we watch the girls run down one more aisle.

 

“Fine,” I snap. “Everything’s fine.”

 

“Katniss, come on.”

 

“Let’s just get the tree. They’re going to crash on the way home anyway.”

 

He sighs and calls after the girls, “What about this one?” Apparently, they’ve forgotten they’ve already seen every single tree in this aisle, and they readily agree. I allow myself a moment of fantasy as I watch Peeta cut down the tree. His jeans pull across his ass and thighs as he lays on the ground the saw, but I shake off my rage-infused lust and usher the girls back on the wagon so we can pay and go home.

 

I’m right. All three of them fall asleep on the ten-minute drive back to our place, and I almost ream Peeta until he does something that makes my heart hurt. One by one, he unsnaps the girls from their car seats and seatbelts and carries them into the house and up the stairs. I watch from the doorway as he tucks Daisy in and kisses her gently on the forehead. When he looks up at me, I purse my lips and escape downstairs. In a rush to get away, I step out onto the deck to try to cool down. Until then, I didn’t realize I could get so hot watching a man take care of a child.

 

“Hey,” Peeta murmurs as he joins me outside. He hands me a cup of cocoa, and I relax when I taste a faint hint of Bailey’s in the drink.

 

“This is good,” I say with a half-smile. “Sorry for being so grouchy earlier.”

 

“Any particular reason why you were upset?”

 

I contemplate for a while, but I’m not sure how to explain what I’m feeling yet. With a firm shake of my head, I take another drink of cocoa and lean into him. He puts his arm around me and rests his cheek on the top of my head.

 

“Want to catch up on the DVR before bed?” he queries, and I nod. Anything to not have to put into words what I’m still trying to understand.


	6. Santa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Santa

 

 

“Daisy Doo, it’s bedtime,” I say firmly for the fifteenth time.

 

“But I want some water.”

 

“No; you’ve had that already.”

 

“Will you sing me another song?”

 

“Already sang three.”

 

“What about—?”

 

“Bedtime, Daisy,” I repeat. “You have school tomorrow.”

 

“Will you put the angel we made with Uncle Peeta next to the bed?” she whispers softly, and my heart melts.

 

“Of course, sweetie.”

 

“Mine too,” Poppy pleads, and I bop her on the nose with my finger.

 

“Sure, and yours too, Lily. I’ll get all of them.”

 

I’m back in a couple of minutes and arrange the angels on the windowsill. I give each of my nieces another goodnight kiss and slip through the door and downstairs to the living room where Peeta’s watching a hockey game.

 

“They all asleep?” he asks without taking his eyes off the screen.

 

“All asleep,” I confirm. “Want some tea?  I’m cold.”

 

He nods and then pumps his fist in the air as his team scores a goal. I grin and head to the kitchen as the horn sounds. Peeta loves sports enough that I have a healthy knowledge of most of them, even if I don’t follow too many myself.

 

“Here you go.” He takes the proffered mug and smiles at me as he pats the couch cushion next to him. I sigh and settle in, but I’m restless. I can’t get comfortable to save my life.

 

“Sorry,” I mumble as I accidentally elbow him.

 

Peeta mutes the TV and turns toward me. “What’s up, Katniss? You’re jumpier than the hooligans upstairs on Christmas morning.”

 

“Nothing,” I answer and then wiggle again.

 

“Nothing, my ass,” he growls and pulls me so I’m sitting sideways in his lap. “Come tell Santa what’s troubling you.”

 

I smack him on the shoulder at his man-handling and laugh, “Since when did you become Mr. Claus? You don’t even have a beard.”

 

“I don’t have any elves either, but I have been known to make people’s wishes come true,” he teases and hugs me. “I’m wearing red and have on black boots. I also have a twinkle in my eye. Close enough. Now, spill it. What’s worrying my favorite Everdeen?”

 

“Did you know when I was young that people used to call me Evergreen Everdeen?” I ask him as I lean my head on his shoulder.

 

“That’s hilarious,” he barks with laughter. “Is that why you love green so much? It brings back so many fond memories of being mocked in elementary?”

 

“Stop laughing at me,” I pout, but I can’t help chuckling too. Kids can be so cruel sometimes.

 

“I would never laugh at you. Not even if you are Grumpy Kat. Get it? Katniss. Grumpy. Grumpy Kat.” He’s overly pleased with himself, and I can’t help feeling a little put out that he thinks I’m grouchy—even if he’s right.

 

“You ever going to tell me what’s wrong?” he asks as he pushes a lock of hair behind my ear. I shake my head, and he tucks it under his chin for several minutes before he tries again. “Can I ply you with alcohol?”

 

“Maybe another night.”

 

“Oh my. This is really serious,” he observes and turns my face towards him with a carefully placed finger on my chin. His blue eyes pierce through me, and I squirm under his gaze. I’ve always hated the way he can see right to my core.

 

“The girls like you more than they do me,” I pout, and he squints at me as he cocks his head.

 

“Well, that’s because I’m irresistible. All women like me more than they like you.”

 

I laugh and fall back on the couch with my legs still across his lag. “Is that right?”

 

“Absolutely. I’m devilishly handsome and remarkably charming. I have amazingly unique ideas, and I’m unusually talented. People can’t help but adore me,” he says with a straight face. “Besides, I actually like people, which is something I can’t really say for you.”

 

“And you like glitter,” I remind him as he massages my right calf.

 

“Glitter just makes everything better.”

 

“What is your obsession with that stuff, anyway?” I ask as I pull myself into an upright position and tug at a loose thread on my pajama pants. “Glitter’s not exactly the most masculine thing in the world.”

 

“Questioning my manhood,” he sighs and winks at me. “How very sexist of you, Ms. Everdeen. You’re on the naughty list now.”

 

“I am not!” I protest. “I’ve been really good this year.”

 

“You’re good every year,” he says quietly.

 

“Nah, I’m grumpy. And I lose my temper too often—especially with you.”

 

“I have thick skin.”

 

I lean over and pinch his stomach. “Is that what that is? I thought that was flab.”

 

He leans back, aghast, and mock yells, “I am _not_ flabby.”

 

“Oh yeah? Prove it, Santa. Looks like a bowl full of jelly to me.”

 

“Seriously? Does this look like jelly?”

 

My eyes widen at the expanse of skin he exposes as he pulls his shirt up to bare his stomach. My mouth goes dry, and my fingertips itch to touch him. I can’t speak until he lowers his clothing back into place, and then I can only gasp out a denial.

 

“I didn’t think so,” he says smugly. “Imagine those babies with glitter. Sparkle abs, if you will. I should trademark that.”

 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I mutter as I roll my eyes. “You are impossible.”

 

“Impossibly handsome and charming,” he quips.

 

“No wonder the girls like you more than me,” I sigh and attempt to get off the couch, but he pulls me toward him so I stumble into his lap again.

 

“You’re not really worried about that, are you?” he asks, his voice serious. “I’m just the fun non-uncle. You know they adore you.”

 

“I know. It’s just…”

 

“Just what?”

 

I sigh and study my fingernails for a few moments before I’m finally able to vocalize part of what’s bothering me.

 

“I’m tired of being the responsible one,” I admit. “When do I get to be the fun aunt, and you’re the one who remembers bedtime and says no to cookies once their teeth are brushed?”

 

He studies me carefully for a moment and starts to speak several times but snaps his mouth shut each time. I chew on my bottom lip nervously for a few minutes before he finally speaks.

 

“Just because you’re good at discipline and hygiene doesn’t mean you’re not fun. The girls think you’re a princess, and you might be my favorite person in the entire world. Even when you’re a little difficult.”

 

Sighing, I decide to let it go for the night. I’m too tired to try to explain.

 

“You’re right. I’m just exhausted.”

 

“Let Santa make it better then,” he suggests, and I sigh as he massages my shoulders until I’m limp. Since I barely have enough energy to climb the stairs, Peeta half-carries me and tucks me into bed with a kiss on my forehead.

 

Peeta really can make wishes come true. My last thought before I fall asleep is that maybe he is actually Santa.


	7. Coal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Coal

 

 

“Aunt Katniss?”

 

“Yeah, Poppy.”

 

“What is a jolly, happy soul?” she asks in such a sincere voice I put down my coffee.

 

“I’m sorry, what?”

 

She heaves a heavy sigh and points at the book she’s reading. “Daisy told me Frosty has a jolly, happy soul. What is that?”

 

“Uh…”

 

“It’s an extra special thing that snowmen have when they have cute kids like you to love them,” Peeta announces as he enters the kitchen and opens the fridge to see what’s available for him to add to the soup that’s simmering on the stove.

 

“But what does it _do_ , Uncle Peeta?”

 

“It makes each person or snowman unique,” he explains as he washes vegetables and places them on a cutting board.

 

“What’s that mean?”

 

I roll my eyes at Peeta for forgetting my niece is four and explain, “Unique means super-duper special. Like you are to me.”

 

Poppy grins at me and points at the book. “What’s coal? And how do you make eyes out of it?”

 

“What is this crazy story you’re reading, Popsicle?”

 

She giggles, “My name’s not Popsicle, Uncle Peeta!”

 

“It’s not?” he asks and stops chopping carrots.

 

“No! It’s Poppy!”

 

“But I can’t eat a poppy!” he teases as he pretends to chew on her arm.

 

“Uncle Peeta, stop!” she squeals, and I can’t help but chuckle at how silly he is with her.

 

He ruffles her hair, pulls on my braid, and steps back over to the counter to continue cooking dinner. He waves at her with a knife and mouths to me, “She’s all yours.”

 

I clear my throat and think quickly. There’s got to be some way to explain this to a four-year-old.

 

“Coal is, uh…” Poppy looks at me expectantly, and I decide rambling is as good as option as any. “We used to burn it to make heat. You remember when we had the bonfire?”

 

She nods like a bobblehead and gushes, “I _loved_ that, Aunt Katniss. It was so cool.”

 

“Right. So, you know how we burned the wood? If you burn coal, you can make really, really, really hot fire.”

 

“Wouldn’t that melt the snowman?”

 

“Well, not if you use coal that hasn’t been burned yet.”

 

She considers this, and then she poses another question. “Can we get some?”

 

“I don’t think coal’s for sale.”

 

“I’m so confused,” she says so seriously Peeta coughs to cover up a laugh.

 

“Can I tell you a super cool story?”

 

“Yes! I love stories,” Poppy squeals and wiggles in her seat.

 

“Panem used to be a coal town. We had a ton of mines here back when your grandma Hazel and grandma Lilith were kids, and guess what you get from mines?”

 

“Coal?”

 

“Uh huh! That’s why the high school’s mascot is the Miners, and that’s why we call the festival we have in the fall Coal Miner Days,” I explain. “Maybe we can get some coal next year during the festival and keep it to make a snowman when you’re five.”

 

“Yes! Except…”

 

“Except what, Popsicle?” Peeta asks as he stirs the pot of soup he’s cooking.

 

“I just wish I could see it now. I hate waiting.”

 

I press my lips together to keep from smiling and have a flash of inspiration.

 

“I have an idea, sweetheart. Once Uncle Peeta’s done making dinner, I bet he’d draw a picture with you. You know how good he is at drawing, and he has these really special pencils. They’re charcoal, and they’re kind of like coal.”

 

Peeta turns over his shoulder and looks at me with a beaming smile. “That’s a wonderful idea, Aunt Katniss! You are brilliant. Isn’t she brilliant, Popsicle?”

 

“Who is?” Lily demands as she and Daisy hop into the room. “Movie’s over. I’m hungry. What’s for dinner?”

 

“Vegetable beef soup,” he announces and then asks the girls to get bowls and spoons to set the table. As he passes me to put the pot of soup on the table, he kisses the top of my head and whispers in my ear, “Brilliant, Katniss. No wonder they love you.”

 

Blushing, I can’t help but smile throughout dinner. That night I fall asleep with it still on my face.


	8. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Family

 

 

 

I turn at the sound of the door opening behind me. Peeta exits the house onto the deck with two mugs, and I smile at the image of the girls cuddled together on the couch watching a movie. They’re precious and disgustingly adorable when they’re getting along, and I remind myself how lucky I am to have a sister who gave me more family members and also trusts me to take care of them.

 

Peeta holds a mug out to me, and I take it eagerly. It’s cold outside, and warmth from the drink seeps through my gloves and heats my half-frozen fingers. I smile gratefully at him, and he leans against me as we survey the frost-covered backyard.

 

“Thanks for this,” I say quietly, unwilling to break the spell of silence.

 

“You’re welcome,” he answers, his voice hushed and smoky.

 

The cocoa has Schnapps in it, and I sigh at how good it tastes. “You always know exactly what I need, don’t you?”

 

He doesn’t answer, and I glance sideways at him. I can’t read his expression, but it seems like there’s a hint of sadness in his blue eyes. I’m just about to ask him what’s bothering him when my phone rings, and I fumble to pull it from my pocket and answer before it stops.

 

“Prim, hi!” I greet her, more excited than usual to talk to my sister.

 

“Hey, Katniss. How are things going there? I mean, since we texted yesterday,” she asks.

 

“All good here. How are you?” Prim giggles, and I hear Gale’s deep rumble in the background. Things seem to be going well for them, and I breathe an internal sigh of relief. My heart swells as my sister murmurs something to her husband, and he laughs. I pull the phone away from my mouth and hiss at Peeta, “Things seem to be going well with them.”

 

“Gale, stop!” Prim yelps and then asks to talk to her daughters. I leave Peeta on the deck and hand the phone to Lily. The girls chat happily with their mother, and I slip back outside to finish my drink.

 

“You okay?” I ask and bump him with my elbow.

 

“Fine,” he mumbles and sips his cocoa.

 

“Peeta?” When he doesn’t respond, I repeat his name more insistently.

 

“What?” he snaps, and I recoil from him.

 

“What’s wrong with you?”

 

He locks eyes with me, but he shifts his gaze away after only a few moments. Embarrassed, he runs his fingers through his hair and shakes his head. “Nothing. I’m sorry.”

 

“Talk to me,” I implore and reach out to grab his arm.

 

“I said it’s nothing,” he insists and shakes off my hand.

 

Stunned, I watch him retreat into the house. I gather myself and rejoin the girls in the living room as they say goodbye to their mother and hand the phone back to me. Prim thanks me again for watching her kids, and I assure her before we hang up that I’m herding them to bed.

 

“Do we really have to go to sleep now, Aunt Katniss?” Lily asks.

 

Daisy chimes in, “It’s Friday! Let us stay up late.”

 

Poppy blinks her eyes at me and chirps, “Puh-leeeze?”

 

I grin at them but steer them upstairs and guide them through their bedtime routine before tucking them in for the night. Then I go find Peeta.

 

“Hey, you,” I say when I find him in the study. He’s sketching—his pencil scratching angrily across his sketchpad. “How’s my favorite roommate?”

 

“I’m really not in the mood.”

 

“I noticed. What happened? This isn’t like you.”

 

“Of course it is,” he sneers. “I’m a selfish jerk. Don’t you know that?”

 

“Oh… You called home.”

 

Peeta slams his hand down on the desk and curses before crossing to the window and staring out of it with his arms crossed. He’s shaking with anger when I join him.

 

“Your mom’s not happy you’re staying here this year.”

 

“Understatement of the year,” he growls. “I should have emailed instead. Or sent a card. I was hoping to get my dad, but I got the ice queen of Christmas cheer.”

 

“Family’s the best,” I joke wryly and wrap my arms around his waist from behind. He leans back into me slightly, and I place my cheek against his shoulder blade. He’s so warm, and I’m relieved when I feel the tension begin to drain from him.

 

“I should know better,” he grumbles, and I nod. His wool sweater scrapes my skin, and I inhale his familiar scent.

 

“You’re a good son for giving her the benefit of the doubt so many times. And you’re my hero for staying here with me this Christmas. You know how much I hate the holidays.”

 

“Bah humbug.”

 

“What can I do to make you feel better?”

 

He’s silent for several moments and then he pulls away. “Nothing. I think I need to get out of the house tonight. Will you be okay here with the girls?”

 

“I, uh, yeah? I guess so.”

 

He nods sharply and heads to the front door. “Don’t wait up,” he calls before he slams the door behind him.

 

He’s still not back when I drag myself to bed in the wee hours of the morning, and my texts have all been read but have gone unanswered. I don’t want to think about what that means.


	9. Eggnog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Eggnog

 

 

 

“Aunt Katniss, why are we eating cereal for breakfast?”

 

I bite back a snarky comment and turn to the kitchen table. My three nieces all look at me expectantly, wondering what brilliant information I’m about to impart.

 

“Because, Lovely Lily, I thought maybe you’d enjoy some sugared cereal on a Saturday morning. More energy for playing the in the snow! I’m planning to exhaust you by noon.”

 

I’m trying to be upbeat, but what I want to scream is that they have to eat cereal because their dickhead Uncle Peeta stayed out all night, and he’s not there to cook breakfast for them. And I’m worried sick about him because it snowed last night, and what if something happened to him? What if…

 

My heart lifts as the front door opens, and Peeta stumbles into the kitchen. He looks like hell, his clothes rumpled and sunglasses covering half his face under his gray stocking cap. At least he’s safe, but I fight the urge to kill him for scaring me.

 

“Good morning, ladies!” he says as he fumbles with the coffee maker. “How are my four favorite ladies in the entire world?”

 

The girls squeal their delight at his appearance, and he winces slightly. Narrowing my eyes, I realize he’s hungover. Very, very, very hungover. It’s clear it takes everything he has to act normally when he probably wants to go take pain medicine, climb into bed, and curl into a ball until his head stops aching. That’s so not going to happen with the Hawthorne Hellions in the house.

 

“We were just wondering when you’d be home, Uncle Peeta.” I announce in a syrupy sweet voice. “The Advent calendar says something about a fort? And there’s a bunch of snow out there. I think we’re making a snow fort today, don’t you?”

 

He releases a brief groan, and I glare at him. He takes a huge gulp of coffee and nods slowly. “Fort day sounds like so much fun!”

 

The girls cheer, and I bite the inside of my cheek to keep my temper in check. Peeta won’t even look at me. He gulps down the rest of his coffee and passes by me on the way out of the room. I follow him and hiss as he starts up the stairs, “Where the hell are you going? You can’t let them down.”

 

He stops and turns slowly. He fixes his gaze on me and pulls down the sunglasses so I can see his red eyes. “I’m going to take a shower,” he answers me so calmly I want to scream. “When I come back down, I’ll be on my best behavior. I deserve a night out every once in a while, Katniss. I’m not a monk, and I’m not their dad. I’m not even really their uncle. And, contrary to my mother and you, I _don’t_ let people down.”

 

My retort dies in my throat as he turns his back on me. We haven’t fought in so long, I’ve forgotten how to actually do it. He’s always so even-keeled, so patient and caring. He’s right. He deserves an off day, especially when he’s been doing me a favor for the past week by being overly amazing with my nieces. Shaken, I return to the kitchen and allow them to distract me as we finish eating a breakfast Prim wouldn’t ever feed her children. Aunt Katniss fail.

 

When Peeta comes back downstairs, he’s a completely different person from the one I last saw. He’s wearing snow pants, boots, and a soft cream fleece the color of eggnog. His winter coat is slung over his arm, and he’s smiling his normal wide smile.

 

“Who’s ready for a snowball fight?”

 

We’re all freezing and exhausted by lunch, so we spend the afternoon inside making red and green paper chains, baking snickerdoodles, and drawing a series of pictures the girls want to bind into a book for their parents for Christmas. Peeta’s in his element, directing the activities seamlessly, but I can’t help wondering if the chill I feel from him is real or part of my over-active imagination. After a dinner of homemade chili (the one thing I can actually cook really well), I get the girls into bed and rejoin Peeta in the living room.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call,” he apologizes before I say a word.

 

I approach him cautiously, unsure how to deal with him after his outburst yesterday and his aloofness throughout the day. He won’t meet my eyes, so I put my hand on his shoulder and am relieved when he covers it with his.

 

“I’m glad you’re safe,” I admit quietly. “I was worried.”

 

“I crashed at Finnick’s place. We went out and…well, I wasn’t in any shape to drive.”

 

“You don’t ever ignore me.”

 

His shoulders slump, and I swallow against the lump in my throat. “I know I don’t.”

 

“Then why?”

 

His tortured expression is almost too much to bear when he finally pleads, “Can we please let this go today? I’m not really up for re-hashing my shitty family life and inferiority complex. I’d rather spend Saturday night watching stupid funny movies and forgetting all the barbs my mom throws at me every time we talk and what a failure I am. With you.”

 

“You’re not a failure. And I’m not nearly as good-looking as Finnick is, so I’m a sorry substitute for him,” I say in mock-seriousness.

 

“Hardly anyone is,” he agrees with the hint of a smile. “I honestly can’t figure out if my ego is boosted or bruised after a night out with him. The sheer amount of female attention he draws is astounding. And the number of broken hearts he leaves in his wake when they notice his wedding ring…”

 

“I’m sure you garnered a fair amount of attention on your own. Those baby blues of yours have been known to melt some hearts in the past.”

 

He smiles wistfully at my attempt to compliment him. “Not the kind I want,” he mumbles and grabs the remote. “Come. Sit. It’s movie time.”

 

I sink down next to him, and it only takes a few minutes of one of our favorite flicks before the remaining ice between us melts. I lean into him, and he slings his arm over my shoulder to pull me into his side. I tug the blanket covering us up to my chin and sigh with contentment.

 

“Thank you for everything you do for me, Peeta Mellark. I don’t deserve you.”

 

He hums against my hair and kisses my temple. “You deserve the world, Katniss Everdeen. You have no idea.”

 

I nod off with his arm still around me and only stir a little when he carries me upstairs and puts me to bed. I reach for him as he turns to leave, and he squeezes my hand and murmurs something I don’t quite catch as I drift into darkness.


	10. Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Fire

 

 

 

I wake slowly and stretch under the covers. It’s warm and comfortable and…late I realize as I glance at my alarm clock. Peeta must have let me sleep in this morning, likely because he still feels guilty about his meltdown on Friday night. My eyes drift closed again, and I allow myself a moment of weakness. It’s been so long since I’ve done anything, but I’m incredibly relaxed and, I suddenly realize, completely turned on from a series of really good dreams. I grit my teeth together in a futile attempt to curb the fire building inside me, but I’m as hot this morning as I was freezing yesterday in the snow.

 

“Oh, yeah,” I moan softly as I slide my hand downward and give into what I deny myself much too often.

 

It feels amazing, much more rewarding than pretending I don’t have the urges I haven’t allowed myself to explore for a long time. I realized shortly after Gale and I split that I needed a specific person to picture when I did it. Since Peeta is the main guy in my life since I’ve been single, it’s been hard to imagine anyone else, and sometimes it feels creepy doing that thinking about my best friend.

 

Not today, though.

 

It must have been his gentleness when he squeezed my hand the night before that brings Peeta to the forefront as pressure builds. His familiarity makes it easy—his hands, his mouth, his tapered fingers, his scent, his toned body.

 

“Peeta,” I gasp as my hips pulse in rhythm with my touch.

 

It doesn’t take long before I jerk and suppress a swallowed groan as flames scorch my insides. Limpid and wholly satisfied, I bask in the glow of my release for several minutes before reality brings me crashing back to earth.

 

The guy I just fantasized about is downstairs taking care of my nieces because he’s my best friend, the most amazing guy I know, and completely and totally not attracted to me.

 

“Dammit,” I mutter and drag myself to the shower. I turn the water to scalding and try to wash away my shame before facing downstairs.

 

It’s hard to look at Peeta the rest of the day. He’s even more perfect than normal; sweet with the girls, kind to me, expertly steering the day’s activities so there’s not a dull moment. I can’t stop myself from staring at him as he teases the hellions while they roll out dough for sugar cookies. He mixes different bowls of frosting to create a palette of colors for decorating the different shapes, and Daisy grins happily at him and crawls into his lap at the kitchen table.

 

“I love you, Uncle Peeta,” she sighs.

 

I blink away tears at her innocence and unabashed affection. I haven’t thought about how I used to want kids for a long time, but the events of the past week have spurred memories that hurt when I touch them.

 

Peeta hugs her tightly and kisses her cheek, and I have to turn away from the image of him with a child in his arms. He’s going to make a wonderful father when he finally meets the girl of his dreams. It’s amazing to me he’s still single, but he’s picky. Even he readily admits that, and I reap the benefit having him as my roommate. I know it probably won’t last much longer, but I’m going to enjoy it as much as I can before I’m left on my own again. I try not to think about how lonely I’ll be when he’s built a life with someone else. He’ll always be my best friend, though, and I push away the melancholy so I can enjoy the day.

 

“I have an idea,” he announces after dinner, and I smile at the way his eyes twinkle and he twitches with excitement.

 

“What’s that, Uncle Peeta?” I ask and rub my hands together until the girls mimic me.

 

“I think you all have been so, so good today that we should do something extra special tonight. Like…”

 

“Ice cream,” Poppy yells.

 

“Sledding,” Lily suggests.

 

“Candy!” Daisy adds.

 

He laughs at their enthusiasm, but shakes his head. “How about we make a fire in the fire pit? I bought some hot dogs and marshmallows, and we can make s’mores. Would you like that, Daisy Doo?”

 

“Uh, I would,” I say. I love that fire pit, and Peeta and I don’t use it nearly enough.

 

The girls scurry to get their coats and hats, and I help Peeta stack the firewood and get the flames going. We roast hot dogs and munch on chips by firelight, and I can’t help but notice how Peeta’s long eyelashes tangle a little when he blinks. I’m hyperaware of his presence today, and it’s unnerving.

 

Once the girls are in bed, he joins me outside with drinks, and we stare at the fire in silence for a long time.

 

“It’s been a pretty good week,” I admit as I sip the hot toddy he made me.

 

“It has been,” he agrees. “The Hawthorne Hellions have been absolutely adorable. It’s going to be quiet once they go back home.”

 

“Yeah, but think of the benders we can throw.”

 

He snorts at me. “Yeah, that sounds like us.”

 

“Hey! You are a successful young professional, and I am…”

 

“Very respectable in your own right.”

 

“Respectable, huh? That’s always my goal,” I say and take another sip.

 

“We could always work on getting you into some trouble,” he drawls and grins at me. “We used to do a pretty good job of that.”

 

“We used to do a lot of stupid stuff.”

 

“Yeah, but it was so much fun.”

 

A wave of nostalgia rocks me, and I blink at the fire for a few minutes. “Now’s fun too, though.”

 

“As long as we’re together,” he murmurs.

 

But how much longer will that be when it’s only a matter of time before he tires of playing my roommate and needs something more? I flop my leg against his, and he grabs my knee and squeezes. When I jerk, he cradles my palm and threads his fingers through mine.

 

“I’ll get another log,” he offers after a comfortable silence, and I nod. Sparks fly when he adds it to the pile, and we watch together while it slowly catches fire.


	11. Ribbon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Bows/Ribbon

 

 

 

“Give me the ribbon, Daisy!” Lily screams from down the hall, and I drop my brush and streak toward them.

 

“What’s going on?” I demand as the two girls shoot daggers at each other while Poppy watches with wide eyes.

 

“Daisy won’t give me my ribbon!”

 

“It’s _my_ ribbon, Aunt Katniss,” Daisy screeches. “She tried to steal it from me.”

 

“But I need it!”

 

“Girls, stop!” I command as tears spring to Lily’s eyes.

 

Peeta emerges from his bedroom, frantic and distracted. He mumbles, “Mind your Aunt Katniss,” and then turns to me with a wounded expression on his face.

 

“What?” I snap, almost at the end of my rope.

 

“I can’t get my tie on right today. Can you help me? I can’t be late. Meeting. Very important,” he babbles.

 

“Girls, hush for a minute. Uncle Peeta needs my help, and then we’re getting to the bottom of this ribbon crisis,” I instruct them and turn to him. “Come here. What have you done to yourself?”

 

“I don’t know. My fingers are in knots this morning, which should be funny since I’m trying to make one,” he sighs, and he looks at me with his puppy dog eyes that make my heart melt.

 

Yanking the loops free, I straighten the tie around his neck and even out the two ends before working the fabric into a half-Windsor. I tighten it and then fold the collar down over it and pat it flat. He catches my eye and gives me a sweet, shy smile that makes my heart flutter.

 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says and kisses me on the cheek before loping down the stairs and calling goodbye as he races out the door.

 

My cheek tingles where his lips brushed my skin, but I don’t have time to focus on it. As soon as he’s gone, Lily and Daisy start yelling again, and I whistle shrilly to get them to stop.

 

“Now,” I say sternly, “what is happening?”

 

“Daisy took the ribbon I was going to wear today. Make her give it back!”

 

“Nuh uh,” Daisy insists. “Lily stole it from me. It’s mine!”

 

“How about we share? Daisy, can you let your sister borrow your ribbon today?” I ask while crossing my fingers. “I’m sure she’ll take really good care of it and give it back to you when you get home from school.”

 

“No!” she yells. “It’s mine!”

 

Lily bursts into tears, storms into the bathroom, and slams the door. I turn to Daisy and clench my fists. Gritting my teeth, I say as calmly as I can, “I’m really disappointed in you, Daisy Doo. Sharing is a nice thing to do.”

 

Her face falls, but I don’t wait for the waterworks. Instead, I knock gently and enter the bathroom to find Lily sitting on the stool, completely inconsolable.

 

“What’s wrong, Lily? It’s just a hair ribbon,” I croon as I pat her hair.

 

She hiccups and shakes her head. Forlorn, she lifts her face to me and bawls, “It’s not just a ribbon. I wanted my hair look like yours this morning.”

 

Surprised, I rub the end of my braid. I hadn’t realized anyone noticed that I’d woven ribbons into one of the plaits over the past few days. It was just something to lift my spirits during the holidays, which I tend to hate, but it seems much more important than that to my niece.

 

“But why?” I blurt. “Why does it matter?”

 

“You’re so pretty,” she blubbers, and my brow furrows as I grapple with what she’s saying. “I wanted to look like you.”

 

“Oh, sweetie…” I blink against the tickle in the corner of my eyes and clear my throat several times before I can speak. “Lily, you are a beautiful little girl. You don’t need to copy me to be pretty, but that’s super sweet you want to.”

 

“But I can’t! Because Daisy’s a spoiled brat!”

 

I chuckle a bit and hug Lily to my side. I whisper conspiratorially, “Younger sisters are the worst sometimes. Your mom drove me crazy when we were small.”

 

Lily giggles and nods. “They really are,” she agrees in her most adult voice.

 

“Now, let’s see if I have a ribbon you can use. What about a blue one to match your eyes?”

 

She nods eagerly, and I help her braid her hair with a puddle of goo where my heart normally is. Chastened, Daisy offers the ribbon, but Lily graciously thanks her and declines. When I drop them off at school, I make sure to give them both extra-long hugs and a kiss on the top of the head. As I drive to Poppy’s pre-school, my youngest niece almost gives me a heart attack.

 

“Aunt Katniss, how come you and Uncle Peeta don’t kiss the way Mommy and Daddy do?”

 

“What?” I sputter and thank my lucky stars I’ve already swallowed my sip of coffee. “What are you talking about, Popsicle?”

 

“Well, Mommy and Daddy kiss on the lips, and you and Uncle Peeta only kiss each other on the cheeks. Why?”

 

“Oh… Well, your mommy and daddy are married, they love each other very, very much, so they kiss on the mouth to show how much they love each other.” I have no idea if that makes any sense at all, but I’m a little shaken at her questions.

 

“You and Uncle Peeta love each other too, don’t you?”

 

“Of course we do!”

 

“Then why don’t you sleep in the same bed together like Mommy and Daddy do?”

 

I curse under my breath and try not to panic. I have no idea how to explain this to her.

 

“Uncle Peeta and I are just friends and roommates, but your parents are married. If Uncle Peeta and I were married, we would sleep in the same room. It’s a different kind of thing.”

 

“Why is it different?”

 

“Because we love each other in a different way than your parents do. Your mom and dad want to live together their whole lives, so they had you and Daisy and Lily to make a family.”

 

“Don’t you want to be with Uncle Peeta your whole life? Isn’t he family?”

 

I can’t breathe. I pull into the pre-school’s parking lot and walk Poppy into the building without answering. When I return to my car, I gulp in a huge lungful of air and try not to cry. I know Poppy didn’t mean to upset me, but she hit a nerve I’ve been trying to ignore for a long time. She’s way too smart for a four-year-old.

 

My relationship with Peeta is so important to me I don’t really know how to live without it. The problem is that I’m sure I will at some point. I’ve been clinging to our friendship and dreading the moment I have to let go for years now. I don’t want him to find someone who takes my place in his life, who ties his ties when he’s flustered and watches college basketball with him on week nights to de-stress. That’s my job.

 

And suddenly, I’m terrified of losing him. Not just scared but petrified that I’ll face years of my life without watching him with someone else. I can’t think of anything but the times I’ve taken him for granted, which I’ve done a lot because he’s so stinking easy-going. Or the times I gave him shit for doing something that’s out of character for him—like his night out with Finnick last weekend when he didn’t answer my texts.

 

My phone rings, and I’m shaken out of my stupor. It’s a number I don’t recognize, so I ignore it. I can’t, however, disregard the fact that I have to go to work, so I vow to worry about Peeta later and head to the office. I know I won’t get much done there, but at least it will help me avoid the gnawing anxiety in the pit of my stomach.


	12. Visions of Sugar Plums

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Writer's Choice

 

 

 

“Peeta, I might strangle all of them if they don’t calm down.”

 

He shakes his head and leans close. “I’ll take them outside and run them ragged for a little bit if you want me to. Or I can bribe them to hush. Or something.”

 

I watch in disbelief as the girls run in circles around the couch. “How did we get here?”

 

“A lot of sugar and questionable parenting skills, I’m pretty sure.”

 

“I should never have expected you to be the good influence in this situation. That’s where I went wrong,” I tease and try to figure out how to reign in the chaos. I glance sideways at him and raise my finger to place it on my chin.

 

“I know that look,” he laughs. “You’re about to have an idea.”

 

“Not just any idea. A brilliant one.”

 

“Of that, I have no doubt. You’re a Brainiac. Lay it on me, Imparter of Wisdom and All Things Intelligent.”

 

“We’re going to bribe them,” I whisper conspiratorially.

 

“I would _never_ have thought of that!”

 

“I know, right?”

 

Peeta flashes me a grin so sparkly it makes my eyes cross. I almost forget my plan, but I manage to get myself under control and clap my hands in quick succession. The girls freeze and stare at us with wide eyes.

 

“Who wants to have a slumber party tonight?”

 

“Meeeeeee!” the girls scream in unison, and I sigh in relief.

 

“That is excellent news!” I exclaim, pretending to be shocked at their agreement. “You have five minutes to get everything out of your system, and then go grab your pajamas and blankets and pillows and come right back down here.”

 

The girls screech and streak upstairs to grab their stuff. Peeta chuckles and gives me a quick hug. “I’ll leave you to it then. I’ll go work in the office.”

 

“Where are you going, Uncle Peeta?” Lily asks as she bounds down the stairs.

 

“Well, Lovely Lily, you and your sisters and Aunt Katniss are going to have a slumber party, so that means no boys allowed,” he explains, and I fight to hide a smile. He’s so earnest, it’s almost laughable.

 

“But Uncle Peeta!” Daisy wails.

 

Poppy chimes in almost immediately, “You have to slumber with us! It’s for the whole family.”

 

Bewildered, Peeta glances at me and shrugs. “Well, okay, I guess.”

 

The girls settle on the floor, and Peeta pops some popcorn while I read Christmas stories to calm them down.

 

“Aunt Katniss,” Daisy sighs in a sleepy voice, “what’s a sugar plum?”

 

I pause and furrow my brow. “Uh…”

 

“It sounds kinda good, but I don’t know,” Lily says seriously.

 

Poppy yawns and pulls her blanket up to her chin. “Sugar. Mmm.”

 

“I don’t actually know, Daisy Doo, but I bet they’re good.”

 

“I think it’s a plant,” Peeta postulates as he joins us. He passes a bowl of popcorn to me and small bags to the girls.

 

“We should look it up,” Lily suggests. “That’s what we do at school when we don’t know the answer.”

 

“Good idea!” Desperate to get some relevant information, I grab my phone and google sugar plums. It takes about five seconds to solve the riddle. “Oh, it’s candy.”

 

“Hey! How about we put on a movie, and you girls can fall asleep to it?” Peeta says quickly. I shoot him a look of gratitude. Neither of us can afford to get the girls excited about sugar again tonight. They’ll never sleep.

 

“Another good idea! And remember, visions of sugar plums are kind of a Christmas thing. Which means you have to sleep.”

 

“We’ll lie down if you do,” Lily promises.

 

Peeta and I steal a glance at each other, and I try not to read anything into the way his lips twitch. I join him on the couch, and he stretches out with his back against the cushions. He holds an arm up, and I settle in front of him. My back presses against his chest, and my head settles into the curve of his arm.

 

“Now it’s perfect,” Poppy yawns and blinks in a futile attempt to keep her eyes open. It’s only a few moments before she fails and slips into sleep.

 

Light from the screen flickers on the walls and ceiling, and Peeta’s even breathing are strangely soothing. I try to stay awake, but the exhaustion of the week is too much. My last thought before I fall asleep is that I can move up to my bed later.

 

When I wake up the next morning still cradled in Peeta’s arms, I realize I didn’t bother.


	13. Ugly Sweaters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Ugly Sweaters

 

 

“Where are the kiddos?” Peeta asks as he enters the house. He comes up behind me and gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek, which makes me a little light-headed.

 

“My mom has them. She called a couple of days ago from work, and I didn’t recognize the number. She tried again this morning and offered to take the girls tonight,” I explain.

 

Peeta’s eyes light up, and he rubs his hands together. “So, no kids until tomorrow?”

 

“Nope!”

 

“What are we going to do? Kid-free night! Movie? Dinner? A game of Twister? No, strip poker. Alphabetizing our spices. Organizing our closets by color. Cataloguing our books in the Dewey Decimal system.”

 

I shake my head at him and try not to laugh out loud. He’s such a dork.

 

“We could do any of those. Or…”

 

“Or? There’s an or? I love ors. Lay it on me, darling.”

 

“Or,” I sigh with exaggerated exasperation, “we could go to my office’s Christmas party. I mean, you did promise to be my date when I asked you before Thanksgiving.”

 

“Shit, I completely forgot about that,” Peeta mutters. “It’s tonight? Really?”

 

“Really, really,” I confirm and twist my hands together. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. I can go by myself, I guess.”

 

“No, no, no. I’ll go,” he insists. “I just forgot about it. I’m sorry. Must have overlooked writing it down when you asked me.”

 

“Seriously, Peeta. You don’t have to go. I can make an appearance and then just come back here. I mean, our bookcase does need some organizing. And I did work at a library when I was high school,” I remind him. “I’d have to look up our non-fiction books, but I can catalogue the fiction books pretty quickly.”

 

He stares at me, and his forehead creases as he processes what I say. It takes him a few seconds to fully grasp that I’m kidding.

 

“You are a total nerd, Katniss,” he teases. “I am not becoming a librarian on the night of your Christmas party. Let’s go. What time does it start? Where is it? Do I need to change?”

 

“It is an ugly sweater Christmas party,” I clarify. “You might want to put on an ugly Christmas sweater. I mean, it’s just a suggestion, but it’s kinda the whole point of the party.”

 

“I have that!” he yelps. “I do!”

 

“I know you do. We bought them together after Christmas last year. Remember?”

 

“Stop reminding how bad my memory is.”

 

“That seems like an oxymoron somehow. Or you’re just a moron.” When he sticks out his tongue, I twirl my finger in the air and point upstairs. “Go! Go pick out the ugliest sweater you bought last year, and we’ll leave.”

 

“I’ll wear the Christmas tree one,” he assures me. “No, wait! The one with the blinking lights! Although the battery’s probably dead. No, I’ve got it. The one with the elves. That one is hideous.”

 

“It’s the worst,” I agree. “I think I’m going to wear the psychotic angel one. You remember? She’s grinning maniacally as she moons the clouds?”

 

“I’m envious of your ugly sweater prowess. I bow to you. Well, I will as soon as you go put it on.”

 

He waggles his eyebrows at me and turns to climb the stairs. I try not to stare at his ass as he does, but good lord, it’s lovely. When did that happen? The tan corduroy pants he’s wearing pull taut against his upper thighs and show the curve of his cheeks perfectly. I force myself to swallow hard so I don’t drool.

 

“If you hurry, we can stop and pick up some cider on the way.”

 

“I love cider.”

 

“I know you do, you crazy man. I’ve known you for 400 years.”

 

“Get your insane angel on, and stop giving me shit. I’ll be down in ten minutes.”

 

I climb the stairs behind him and try to keep the smile off my face. I’m looking forward to tonight more than I thought I would, and if my luck holds, I might score a pretty decent office party gift.

 

“Thanks, Mom,” I whisper to Peeta’s closed bedroom door. “Merry Christmas to me.”


	14. Reindeer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Reindeer

 

 

 

The microwave buzzes, and I pull two mugs of hot water out and insert tea bags into each to steep. I’m just about to rejoin Peeta in the living room when I hear the pitter-patter of little feet and Poppy’s timid voice over the spatter of rain against the windows. It was cold and gloomy outside all day today—the worst possible weather to keep me awake after the revelry of the office party the night before.

 

“Uncle Peeta?”

 

“What are you doing out of bed, Popsicle?” Peeta’s warm baritone carries so I can hear him clearly.

 

“I can’t sleep, Uncle Peeta,” Poppy whimpers. “I keep hearing funny noises.”

 

“Ah, honey. Come here. Uncle Peeta will make it all better.”

 

I move to the kitchen door and lean against it to watch what happens.

 

“I’m scared.”

 

Peeta hugs her to him and stage whispers, “There’s nothing scary here, Popsicle. Nothing at all. Would singing a song make you feel better?”

 

Poppy nods and suggests, “Something happy.”

 

“I’ve got it. Here we go.” He makes a show of clearing his throat and then sings slightly off key, “Raindrops keep falling on my head…And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed. Nothing seems to fit. Oh, raindrops keep falling on my head, they keep falling…”

 

“…Because I’m free. Nothing’s bothering me,” Poppy rasps in a quivering voice.

 

“That’s my girl.”

 

“But Uncle Peeta, the rain _is_ bothering me. I just told a fib.”

 

“Hmmm. That’s not good,” he says and pretends to think for a few minutes. “How about this?”

 

Poppy looks at him like he’s the coolest thing since pink unicorns and cotton candy, and I shrink back into the kitchen so she doesn’t see me. This is too precious to disturb, and Peeta’s handling it like a champ.

 

“Reindeer keep falling on my head… Just like the guy whose toys are too big for his sled. The elves made too much stuff. Oh, reindeer keep falling on my head, they keep falling…”

 

Poppy giggles and snuggles into his side. “You’re silly, Uncle Peeta. Reindeer don’t fall.”

 

“They don’t?” he gasps in mock horror. “What do they do then?”

 

“They fly. Duh!”

 

“Oh my goodness. They do fly, don’t they?” When she nods, Peeta shrugs. “I am so glad you’re here to make sure I know what reindeer do. It’s almost Christmas. What if I had it wrong?”

 

“Santa wouldn’t be able to find you.”

 

“No! Santa has to be able to find me. I need my presents!” he protests and tickles her side.

 

“Stop it! Stop tickling me!” When he does, she whispers, “Do it again.”

 

She squeals when he makes her squirm, and she collapses into a pile on the floor.

 

“Feeling better, Popsicle?”

 

She sighs, “So much better.”

 

“Want me to take you back upstairs and tuck you in? I’ll make sure nothing gets you. I’ll even check for falling reindeer.”

 

She studies him for a minute and nods hesitantly. “I miss Mommy and Daddy, Uncle Peeta. Daddy keeps all the monsters away.”

 

“I know you do, sweetheart,” he says with a kiss to her cheek. “They’ll be back in three more sleeps. I know they miss you too, but I’m so glad you and Daisy and Lily got to spend time with me and Aunt Katniss. It’s been so much fun.”

 

Poppy yawns, and Peeta picks her up to carry her upstairs. When he returns, I’m waiting on the couch with his tea and trying to get myself under control. He’s just melted my heart into a puddle of goo.


	15. Candy Cane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Candy Cane

 

 

 

“We’re out of school until 2018, Aunt Katniss!” Lily screeches at me as she streaks into the house. “I’m going to build another snowman, and then can we have popcorn? I’m so excited!”

 

I laugh, wrap her in a hug, and rock her back and forth. “Sounds like a plan, sweetie. Go ahead and run upstairs to change.”

 

“Can I play too? Can I, can I, can I?” Daisy sprints across the living room and throws herself at me.

 

“Of course! You’re on Christmas vacation! Yay!”

 

“Yay, indeed!” Peeta agrees as he ushers Poppy inside. “Hey, Katniss. How was your day?”

 

“Fridays are always good days. How are you?”

 

He throws a thumbs up and then mouths, “Wow!” He points to the girls and grimaces.

 

Once they’ve disappeared upstairs, I cross to him and give him a hug. “Wound up a bit, aren’t they?”

 

“Holy crap. I thought I was going to lose my hearing in the car. There’s something about the pitch of young female voices that’s like a drill through my head.”

 

“Saint Peeta’s a little grouchy today,” I tease and pat him on the arm. “It’s okay, honey bunches. Things will get better.”

 

“I’m sorry. Saint Peeta? What are you talking about?”

 

“Oh, come on. You.” When he looks at me with consternation, I add, “You’re Saint Peeta. Always kind, always patient, always manage to do the right thing no matter how much pressure there is. A saint. It’s kind of disgusting.”

 

He purses his lips and surveys me for a few minutes before turning and walking up the stairs without saying a word. I flinch when he slams his door.

 

“What got into him?” I mutter and head to the kitchen. I have a cocoa recipe I’ve been dying to try, and the end of school for the girls seems like as good a time as any to celebrate.

 

I’m stirring milk into melted chocolate when Peeta enters the kitchen. He stands in the doorway and watches me with crossed arms until I glance over at him.

 

“I’m not a saint,” he says.

 

“Yeah, you are,” I answer. “You’re like Mary Poppins. Practically perfect in every way.”

 

“I’m not perfect.”

 

“Peeta, you’re as close as they come. If you weren’t my best friend and roommate, I’d probably hate you.”

 

“Gee, thanks,” he grouses, and I turn off the burner and rotate to face him.

 

“But I don’t hate you,” I point out. “You’re my best friend.”

 

His wounded expression perplexes me. Why’s he upset that I think he’s wonderful?

 

“I’m going outside to help the girls with the snowman,” he says quietly. “I’ve been thinking about seeing a movie all week. Think I’ll do that this evening.”

 

“That’s fine with me,” I assure him.

 

I wince as he retorts, “Glad to hear my actions meet with your approval.”

 

“Peeta, are you okay?”

 

“I’m fine,” he snaps and stalks to the backdoor and out into the yard. In seconds, he’s rolling in the snow with Daisy.

 

“Well, he’s moody.”

 

Since the rest of them are outside, I set the burner to simmer so the cocoa will be warm when they’re done and settle into the couch with a book and a candy cane. The mint flavor is soothing on such a cold day this late in the holiday season, and later it will pair nicely with the hot chocolate.

 

An hour later, the girls troop back inside. They’re soaked and giggling, and I catch snippets of their conversation as they strip off their wet clothing in the mudroom and head upstairs to change.

 

“But how does Santa get to every house in one night?”

 

“He flies. Like Mommy and Daddy did when they went on vacation, except Santa does it super fast because of the reindeer.”

 

“They’ll be back in two more sleeps.”

 

“And Santa’s almost here too!”

 

Their running commentary makes me laugh until I realize Peeta didn’t come back inside with them. I cross to the front window just in time to see him back out of the driveway and drive down the street.

 

He didn’t even bother to tell me goodbye.


	16. Traditions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Traditions

 

 

 

“Mommy and Daddy are coming home tomorrow!” Daisy yells as she jumps from the third step down to the floor and runs into the kitchen.

 

“You’re right, Daisy Doo! They are coming home tomorrow. Are you ready?” I ask and ruffle her hair affectionately.

 

She nods vehemently and answers, “Yes, but I’m sad to be leaving you and Uncle Peeta.”

 

“You are, huh?” Peeta says from across the room. He’s stirring oatmeal quietly and pointedly ignoring me.

 

“We’ve had so much fun,” she sighs and takes a seat at the table.

 

Lily and Poppy bound down the stairs a few seconds later, and the kitchen fills with the sounds of three happy children and coffee percolating. It’s a cozy scene that makes me slightly wistful. I didn’t ever think I’d have this, but now that I know what it can feel like…

 

“What about you, Popsicle? Are you ready to see your parents again?” Peeta asks. “We’re sure going to miss you around here.”

 

“Ready,” she asserts.

 

Lily’s quick to add, “But we’ll see you on Christmas Eve, right? And you’re coming over on Christmas Day. You won’t have to miss us very long.”

 

“Well, that’s a relief,” he says as he places bowls of oatmeal in front of each of us. He nudges the sugar bowl towards me and offers milk to Lily. “I don’t know what I’d do without my cutie patooties.”

 

“Why are we having oatmeal today?” Lily asks. “I thought you were making pancakes.”

 

“It’s tradition, Lovely Lily,” Peeta answers. “On the first day of Christmas break, my dad always made oatmeal for me and my two brothers. We had brown sugar and maple syrup and blueberries and granola and all sorts of other toppings, just like we do today.”

 

“What’s a pradition?”

 

Peeta chuckles and tugs on one of Poppy’s ponytails. “ _Tra_ -dition. It means something you do over and over.”

 

“Like going tinkle?”

 

I burst out in laughter, and Peeta tries really hard to keep a straight face before he loses it too. Poppy’s so sincere, which makes her question that much funnier. She looks at us with wide eyes while Lily and Daisy try to figure out what’s so funny.

 

“Sorry, Poppy,” I gasp as I try to get myself under control. “A tradition isn’t the same thing as something you do every day. That’s called a routine. A tradition is kind of a special thing people do to commemorate or remember an important time or holiday or something like that.”

 

“So, a tradition is the oatmeal thing with my dad or buying a real Christmas tree every year and putting the same ornaments on it,” Peeta explains. “I bet your mommy has some extra special traditions she celebrates with you.”

 

“Like your birthday plate,” I add. “That red plate you get to use on your birthday, and she cooks you exactly what you want for dinner. Or going caroling with Grandma Everdeen. Or Grammy Hawthorne making Christmas ornaments with you every year.”

 

“We string popcorn on Christmas Eve,” Daisy shouts, and I shake my head to clear my ear. Peeta’s right; young girl voices hurt sometimes.

 

“Exactly, Daisy Doo. Your mom and I used to do that when we were kids together. We always managed to eat more than we put on the string.”

 

“I bet you do too,” Peeta says, and the girls all nod sheepishly.

 

“What traditions do you and Uncle Peeta have?” Lily asks with such an ornery expression on her face that I know she’s up to something.

 

We’re silent for a few minutes before Peeta coughs and takes a huge bite of oatmeal. He swallows and then says over his cup of coffee, “We don’t really have that many. Your Aunt Katniss is a Grinch.”

 

“I am not!” I yelp, offended at his suggestion I don’t enjoy the season. “I like doing fun stuff for Christmas.”

 

“Like getting a tree?”

 

I’m stunned silent by his barb. It’s true I wasn’t thrilled about going tree shopping on a school night, and it’s also true that I hardly ever help him decorate it. That doesn’t mean I don’t want to, though. He’s just better at it than I am.

 

“We go to Christmas parties together every year. That’s a tradition.”

 

“I had to force you to put on a dress for mine. That’s also a tradition.”

 

“We always watch the same Christmas movies.”

 

“Sitting on the couch is super hard,” he replies dryly, and I realize I’m not winning this fight.

 

“Well, what do you want us to do then?” I demand and stir my oatmeal angrily. “Sorry I’ve got other things on my mind and don’t always want to hang mistletoe and all that other crap.”

 

The girls stare at me, and Peeta pushes back from the table and takes his bowl and spoon to the sink.

 

“I’m going to work in the office for a little bit. Let me know when you girls are ready for the last Advent calendar activity with your Uncle Peeta.”

 

Frustrated, I follow him and hiss his name so the girls won’t hear me. “What did I do wrong _this_ time?”

 

He looks at me for a few moments, and I see the muscles in his jaw tensing and releasing repeatedly.

 

“It’s nothing,” he says quietly.

 

“It’s not nothing. What’s going on?” I sound like I’m about to cry, which surprises me. I didn’t realize I was that upset.

 

“We’ll talk about it once the girls are gone. I’m not ruining the last full day they’re here by arguing with you,” he insists. “It’s not that important.”

 

But I have a bad feeling it is. If it wasn’t a significant conversation, he wouldn’t delay it until the girls are back with their parents. I head back to the kitchen with a knot of apprehension in my stomach and try to distract myself with the sweetness of my nieces. Unfortunately, it doesn’t really work.


	17. Cookies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Biscuits/Cookies

 

 

 

“They’re on their way,” I announce after reading the text from my sister. “They should be here in about thirty minutes.”

 

“Just enough time to finish the Christmas cookies,” Peeta assures the girls. “I’ll wrap up some for you to take home.”

 

My nieces cheer, and I wring my hands. As soon as they’re gone, I’m forcing Peeta to talk to me whether he wants to or not. There’s been a distinctive chill in the air between us for far too long, and I don’t want to try to survive the rest of the holiday season with my best friend mad at me.

 

I haven’t liked Christmas for a long time, not since my father passed, and it takes almost everything I have not to sink into a deep depression every year right after Thanksgiving and stay there until after the New Year. Peeta usually goes home to see his parents the last week before Christmas Day, so he hasn’t seen how bad it gets too often. I almost regret asking him to stay in town this year because it’s putting a lot of extra pressure on me to pretend I’m okay.

 

Prim and Gale arrive earlier than expected, and there’s a flurry as the girls streak to their parents. Tears spring to my eyes as I watch their reunion. There’s so much love, it’s almost too much to take.

 

“Thank you so much for looking after them,” Prim breathes into my ear when she hugs me. “We missed them like crazy, but Gale and I really needed this.”

 

“No problem. Things better?” I ask quietly as Gale shakes Peeta’s hand and picks Poppy up to prop her on his hip.

 

“A thousand times better.” Her relief is evident, and I’m thrilled I was able to help her when she’s been such a good sister to me.

 

Prim throws her arms around Peeta’s neck and smacks a thank you kiss on his cheek. Gale crosses to me and gives me an awkward side hug. “Any chance you have some time tomorrow to help me Christmas shop? I’ve already picked up a few things for Prim, but I was hoping to get your opinion on something before I get her big gift.”

 

“Sure,” I agree with a smile. Gale doesn’t ask me for favors very often, so I’m happy to help. Besides, we used to be really close friends before we dated. It might be nice to hang out with him for a little while again.

 

“Thanks. Just let me know when you can. And thanks again for watching the girls,” he says gruffly. “Mellark’s a good guy. You guys did really well with them.”

 

“Happy to help. Always love hanging with my nieces.”

 

All too soon, the Hawthornes are gone, and Peeta and I are alone. He hunches his shoulders and nods his head to the couch. We sink onto the cushions together, and an awkward silence stretches until I finally ask, “Will you tell me what I did wrong now?”

 

“I’m not a saint.”

 

“Peeta—”

 

“Shut up, Katniss, and let me talk.”

 

I grit my teeth to keep my mouth shut. Peeta’s rarely rude to me, so he must be really pissed. Still, this seems extreme.

 

“I’m not a saint, and you don’t have to act like I’m one. I love your nieces, and I had a great time with them the past two weeks. I didn’t do that because I’m perfect or because I’ve got some magic power that makes kids like me. I did it because you mean a lot to me, and I spend half my life doing everything I know how to do to make you happy,” he explains.

 

“I never asked you to do that.”

 

“No, you haven’t, which makes it worse. The other day when I was so upset about my mom you said that I always know just want you need, and it pissed me off. Because I do know. Because I have spent years figuring you out, knowing what makes you tick.” He pauses and runs his fingers through his hair to tug at the ends. “I don’t know you because I’m perfect. I know you because I work my ass off to do so.”

 

“Well, stop then,” I blurt, exasperated that he’s mad at me because he wants me to be happy.

 

“I don’t want to stop,” he yells. “I don’t want to stop working on us. You’re worth working for, dammit! Stop acting like I’m more than you deserve and accept that you’re special and important and worth all the effort I put into this relationship.”

 

I study him for a few minutes, and my heart aches a little bit at the sincerity in his blue eyes. He’s always done so much for me, and I’ve never understood why he settles for so little in return. I’m not the most thoughtful person, but I try to be nice—especially to Peeta.

 

“You saved me the past two weeks,” I rationalize. “You gave the girls so many memories I couldn’t even begin to imagine. I didn’t mean to make fun of you or to belittle you. I appreciate that you take care of so many things. I wish I could do more. I should do more, but right now…this time of the year is incredibly painful.”

 

He reaches over and covers my hand with his. “Why is it so painful?”

 

“I— I miss my dad so much,” I stutter.

 

“Is that all?” he urges as gently as possible.

 

“That’s not enough?”

 

“It’s plenty, but I’m just curious if there’s anything else.”

 

I hesitate, but I might as well be honest. He’s my best friend, after all. If I can’t tell him, who can I tell?

 

“I’m probably not going to get married. Or have kids.”

 

“Okay?”

 

“And I want a family,” I explain. “I’m hard to be around. You know that, and there hasn’t been anyone since Gale, and he wanted sweet Prim, not grouchy Katniss—which was better for all of us anyway in the long run. But still. I’m difficult and demanding and irritable. No guy will ever want to throw in his lot to spend the rest of his life with me.” Peeta stares at me like I have three heads, and I mutter, “Or have babies together.”

 

“I’m right here!” Peeta roars. “What is _wrong_ with you? I’m. Right. Here!”

 

My mouth drops open, and I shake my head. “You’re my best friend.”

 

“I’m in love with you, you idiot!” he yells. “I have been since I met you, and you’ve kept me firmly in the friend zone the entire time.”

 

Peeta springs from the couch and paces back and forth as I grapple with what he’s saying. His arms flail widely as he lays into me, but I can’t process his words.

 

“You’re my roommate,” I protest weakly.

 

“Because it was the only way I could get this close to you without you running away! Dammit, Katniss. Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for you to wake up and see me?”

 

“I see you.”

 

“You don’t!” he shouts. “You see a saint. You don’t see me. I’m not perfect; I’m a man in love with my best friend, and I’m dying inside because I want you so damn much.”

 

“No…”

 

“I can’t do this anymore. I cannot do this.” Peeta grabs his jacket and storms to the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he turns to me and warns, “Figure out what you want, Katniss, because I can’t wait forever. Quit acting like I’m out of your league, and give me a fair shot. Don’t do me any favors by sparing me from your prickly personality. I happen to love it.”

 

He slams the door behind him with enough force the tree ornaments sway. Shocked, I stare after him.

 

I had absolutely no idea how he felt, and my obliviousness scares me almost as much as his confession.


	18. Shopping

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Shopping

 

 

 

“Hey, Catnip.”

 

Gale’s deep voice comes from behind me, and I shove my phone in my pocket and attempt to erase the furrow in my brow before facing him. We give each other a semi-awkward hug, and then I wave my hand at a bench. As we sit, I return the greeting.

 

“Hi, Gale. Good to see you.”

 

He studies my face for a second and asks, “You okay? You look upset or something.”

 

“I’m fine,” I sigh and then laugh at how not fine I sound. “I mean, I’m frustrated, but I’m fine.”

 

“Need to bounce something off me? We used to be friends, you know.”

 

“No, I’m fine… It’s just—” I stop myself before I can say anything else, but he quirks his eyebrow at me. Finally, I admit, “Peeta and I had a fight.”

 

“Ah… Lover’s quarrel.”

 

“What?” I yelp. “What do you mean? Peeta and I aren’t—I mean, we’re not—we’re just friends!”

 

Gale barks with laughter and rolls his eyes. “Catnip, you and Mellark have _never_ been just friends. He’s had a hardon for you since he first laid eyes on you, and you’ve been obsessed with him for almost as long.”

 

Stunned, I shake my head. “That’s just not true.”

 

“It is true. It was true when we were friends, and it was true when we were dating,” he insists. “I never stood a chance with you. You were always into him, whether you knew it or not. I don’t know if you even realized what you were doing when we were together, but you never gave us your full attention. In fact, you were so hung up on him that you pushed me toward Prim—which worked out perfectly, I have to admit.”

 

“What are you talking about?” I ask. I’m beyond rattled by Gale’s comments, and I’m equally positive he’s wrong.

 

“You used to talk about Prim all the time to me, telling me how nice she is and how pretty. You didn’t think you measured up, and you thought I deserved better. In fact, you flat out told me once that Prim would make a better wife to me than you would. I’m not saying you weren’t right, but it’s a little weird to have your girlfriend set you up with another girl. I love your sister more than any man should love a woman, but it would have been nice to figure that out on my own instead of you pushing me at her.”

 

“I’m not sure any of that is bad thing,” I argue. “You two have a pretty good marriage, and the hellions are entirely too precious.”

 

Gale’s face breaks into a broad smile at the mention of his children. “They are. Best kids in the world, and I’m thrilled they’re mine. You should give them some cousins to play with.”

 

“Yeah, and how am I supposed to do that? Impregnate myself?”

 

“Or you could do your roommate and end two decades of sexual tension and unrequited love. Throw the guy a bone, Catnip. Or let him throw you his.” He mutters something else under his breath, and I swear he says, “Dude’s gotta have blue balls.”

 

I consider Gale’s words for a few minutes and then ask quietly, “Do you really think he likes me?”

 

Gale laughs so loudly a few people turn and stare at us. When he finally catches his breath, he says, “Katniss, he’s crazy about you. I can’t believe it’s taken you this long to figure it out. It’s the worst kept secret in the history of the world to everybody but you.”

 

Tears spring to my eyes, and I duck my head. I feel like a complete fool. Everyone knew but me, and I was totally unaware. How stupid am I? How is it possible to miss something everyone else says is real?

 

“I didn’t know.”

 

“Please don’t tell me I’m the one who broke the news to you.”

 

I shake my head and smile sadly. “No, that’s what the fight was about after you picked up the girls yesterday. He lost his temper because I was feeling blue, and then he… He yelled at me that he loved me and stormed out. I haven’t heard from him since.”

 

“Good for him,” Gale says, his voice full of grudging respect. “I didn’t think he’d ever have the guts to tell you.”

 

“What am I going to do?”

 

“First, you’re going to go help me pick out my present for your sister. Then you’re going to go home and tell your roommate you want to bang him.”

 

“But I don’t know that!”

 

Gale shakes his head and throws his hands in the air. “Do you love him?”

 

“Of course, I love him, but that doesn’t mean—”

 

“Can you imagine your life without him?”

 

“I… I don’t want to imagine it without him.”

 

“Could you stand it if he married someone else?”

 

My stomach clenches, and I feel sick. The thought of Peeta with anyone besides me makes me want to throw things. I shake my head.

 

“We’re too much alike, Catnip. That’s why we didn’t work. And because of that, I can tell you that when you love someone the way I love Prim and the way you care about Peeta, that doesn’t go away. Ever.” His voice is quiet but firm when he says, “Give Mellark a chance. He’s one of the best guys I know, and I don’t like too many people. If he hurts you, I happen to know you have an over-protective brother-in-law who’ll beat him up for you. Besides, you’ll make your sister happy.”

 

“Prim knows too?”

 

“Everyone knows. Everyone.”

 

“And she approves?”

 

“The only one who doesn’t think you’re good enough for him is you, and you’re wrong.”

 

I process for a few minutes before a smile twitches at the corners of my mouth. Gale wouldn’t tell me to go for it if he didn’t believe it was real. Prim would kill him if he contributed to anything that would hurt me.

 

“Fine,” I tell him. “Fine, I’ll talk to him. I’m not going to say I want to bang him, though. We should probably start out by trying to get through a conversation without screaming at each other.”

 

“Either way, don’t make him wait too long. His eyes aren’t the only thing that are blue.

 

I snort and shake my head. Gale’s never been one for subtlety.

 

“No more talk about Peeta’s anatomy. What are you thinking for Prim’s present?”

 

I help Gale choose his gift for Prim, and we grab a quick bite for dinner before I head home. I’m not sure what I’m going to say to Peeta when I see him, but I’m ready to try. I can’t begin to describe my disappointment when I return to an empty house.

 

At midnight, I give up waiting for him and go to bed. Peeta’s clearly not ready to face me yet.


	19. Stockings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Stockings

 

 

 

My phone rings, and I reach listlessly over to answer it. My voice is hollow when I say hello.

 

“Katniss?”

 

“Hi, Prim,” I respond without inflection.

 

“Are you okay? Gale told me Peeta finally admitted how he feels about you.”

 

“Did he tell you that Peeta hasn’t been home for two days?”

 

“Oh, hell.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Do you want to come over? Or do you want me to come there?” Prim asks, worry clear in her tone.

 

“I don’t really want company.”

 

“I’ll be over in fifteen minutes.”

 

“Prim, don’t—” I try to stop her, but she’s already disconnected the call. She makes it over in record time, uses her key to get in, and finds me on the couch in the darkened living room.

 

“Okay, talk to me,” she insists and sits sideways on the couch to face me after turning on a few lamps.

 

I shrug and pick at a thread on the cushion. “What do you want me to say? My best friend is in love with me, has been for years, and apparently everybody knew but me. And when he tells me, he screams it at me and leaves. And then doesn’t come back for who knows how long?” Prim shoots me a sympathetic look, and I add, “If he ever does.”

 

“He’ll come home.”

 

“He won’t even answer a text.”

 

“He will.”

 

I snort and stare at the wall. Unfortunately, it’s right where Peeta hung our stockings—his with his name embroidered in orange and mine in green. He had them made when we moved in together, and he’s hung them faithfully every year. Somehow, that makes me feel even worse. He’s been dreaming about us together, and I’ve been dreading him leaving me for another woman. We’re an O. Henry tale.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demand, suddenly furious at being left out of Panem’s inside joke.

 

“It wasn’t our business, first of all, but, more importantly, Peeta asked us not to say anything,” she explains. “He was hoping you’d come to the realization on your own, and he was worried you’d run if one of us spilled the beans. To be fair, Kat, if you had a little more self-esteem, you probably would have figured it out a long time ago.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I snap, irritated that she’s called me out on my insecurity.

 

She chuckles and reaches over to give me a hug. “You have no idea, do you?”

 

“About what?”

 

“What a presence you are. How much you effect those around you. How amazing you are.” Prim adds softly, “How envious I’ve always been of your ability to succeed without falling apart the way I do.”

 

“I’m not that special.”

 

“Oh for…” she mutters. “I can’t convince you to believe in yourself, but you’re my big sister, and you’ve always been my hero.”

 

“I’m not a hero.” Something sparks in my memory, and my mouth drops open. “Oh…”

 

“What?”

 

“That’s why Peeta hates it when I call him a saint.”

 

Prim shakes her head. “Huh? You’ve lost me.”

 

“I’m not a hero. He’s not a saint.”

 

“Please provide more information.”

 

“That’s how the fight started,” I explain. “I called him a saint, and he got mad. He said the way I look at him is what’s kept me from giving him a chance—because I see him as perfect and me as unworthy.”

 

“I think Peeta has a point.”

 

I bob my head in agreement for a few minutes and glance sideways at her. “You know I’m really bad at doing things for me.”

 

Prim smiles sadly at me. “You are, and I adore your generous heart and fiery personality. You’d fight to the death for the people you love. Now you need to do that for Peeta.”

 

“I’m scared,” I admit, and it sounds like an excuse even to me.

 

“I’m sure he is too right now.”

 

“What if I’m too late?” I whisper. “What if he’s given up on me?”

 

Lights flash on the wall, and she gives me a pointed look.

 

“I’ll get out of here. Call me tomorrow or whenever. Love you,” she says and slips out the door. I hear them chatting for a few minutes on the porch, and then he enters the house and stares at me.

 

“Where have you been?” I ask as gently as possible.

 

“I just needed some space. I’m sorry if I worried you.”

 

“We should talk.”

 

Peeta nods and bites his bottom lip. “We should, but not tonight. I’m beat, it’s late, and I have to be at the gallery really early tomorrow morning.”

 

“Oh,” I mutter, and it’s clear he sees my disappointment.

 

“Tomorrow after work. We’ll talk then. Goodnight, Katniss.”

 

“Goodnight,” I murmur to his back as he climbs the stairs, frustration and relief warring inside me.


	20. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Mistletoe

 

 

 

Peeta walks through the door and freezes when he sees me. His mouth curves into a smile, and he jokes, “Hi, honey. I’m home.”

 

“How was work?” My tone is neither accusatory or interested. I’m not sure whether to be furious with him or relieved he’ll actually face me.

 

“Fine, but it was a long day. I couldn’t think about anything but you. Completely distracted. Spilled glitter everywhere. The gallery hates me.”

 

I chuckle and look down at my hands. The moment’s finally arrived, and I’m terrified to have this conversation now.

 

“Do you hate me?”

 

“No!” My protest bursts from me, and he crosses to sit next to me on the couch.

 

“I’m sorry for running out on you the other day,” he says in a soft, sincere voice. “I’m more sorry for ignoring you for two days. I needed time to deal with some things, but that doesn’t excuse being a jerk to you. Forgive me?”

 

“You know I will.”

 

“Yeah, I do, but that doesn’t mean I should take you for granted.”

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

 

“It’s okay—”

 

“Please let me finish,” I insist, and he nods silently. “I didn’t know. I had no idea you felt that way about me, and I’m sorry for being oblivious. I’ve never meant to take you for granted either. You’re my best friend. You mean more to me than anyone in this world besides Prim. I just had no inkling that you could love me that way.”

 

“Feel that way, not felt. And do love, not could love.”

 

I shake my head, but he’s serious. I can tell by the way he’s looking at me with his clear blue eyes that he’s being brutally honest.

 

“I just don’t understand.”

 

“I know you don’t, and that’s why I shouldn’t have lost my temper with you. Or stormed out. Or stayed away for so long,” he admits. “It’s not your fault you can’t read minds. I should have told you how I felt ages ago, but I was terrified of losing you. I convinced myself that our friendship was good enough—that eventually you’d come around—but I hate hearing you doubt yourself. You deserve the world, and I want to give it to you.”

 

I twirl my braid around a finger and press one hand to my stomach. His intensity scares me, but only because I know he’s telling me the truth.

 

“I don’t…I don’t know how to accept what you’re saying. I believe you, but how? How can you really think I’m that special?”

 

Peeta sighs and reaches out and takes my hands. He looks me directly in the eyes and says, “You have no idea the effect you have. You never have, but I have seen it since the second we met. Love doesn’t always make sense, Katniss. It’s not an equation. There are plenty of reasons I love you, but I can’t quantify it and make it worth a certain amount. It just is.”

 

“I’m so scared,” I whisper, and he squeezes my fingers.

 

“I am too. Terrified I’ll screw this up, but I love you. I don’t want to live without you. I don’t want to be only friends with you. I want you. Please give us a chance.”

 

“What if I hurt you?”

 

“I’ll probably live,” he teases. “I’m tough. I have thick skin. I grew up with two older brothers…and my mom. I’ve survived her bullshit my entire life. I can almost definitely put up with yours.”

 

“What if I shut down and run?”

 

“You mean like I did the past few days? I might deserve that.” He grins and adds, “And I’ll track you down. I’m persistent that way.”

 

“You deserve better than me,” I whisper, and he snorts.

 

“I deserve to be with the woman I love,” he states firmly. “For me, there is no one better than you.”

 

I don’t know what else to say. He’s knocked down all my straw man arguments, and I have to admit that all of this makes sense if it I remove my own insecurities and doubts. We’ve known each other forever; we live together; we know everything about each other now that the cat’s out of the bag. I don’t want to lose him either, but…

 

“Please, Katniss,” he pleads.

 

Despite the fear, I can’t imagine my life without him. Nothing will be the same now that he’s admitted his feelings. We can’t go back to how things were, which means he’ll leave if I say no. The thought sends me into a panic. Even if I mess this up, it’s better than pushing him away.

 

“Can we take it slow?” I mumble, unsure how to say yes without sounding like an idiot. When a huge smile breaks across his face, I know I’ve made the right decision.

 

“Of course.”

 

“I don’t know how to do this,” I sigh.

 

“How about this way?”

 

He lifts his hand and cups my cheek. He pulls me toward him slowly, and my eyes flutter closed. Just when I’m sure he’s changed his mind, he brushes his lips against mine.

 

It’s whisper soft, like dandelion fluff, and it stirs something inside me that’s been dormant for years. His mouth opens against mine, and he increases the pressure before pulling back. My eyes flit open, and I register his fattened pupils and pink cheeks.

 

“That didn’t suck.”

 

Peeta bursts into laughter and tugs me into a tight hug. His arms around me are steady and sure, the same way they’ve been for years. He’s always been my biggest cheerleader, and that kiss… Well, maybe I’ve been longing for him too.

 

“Peeta,” I say against his shoulder, “can we hang some mistletoe this Christmas?”

 

“Uh, sure. Why?”

 

“I might stand under it.”

 

“Oh, you would, huh?”

 

“Yeah, I’m out of practice.”

 

“I can help with that.”

 

And he does.


	21. Wrapping Paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Wrapping paper

 

 

“Peeta, do you have the snowflake wrapping paper?” I call to him from the kitchen table and grin when he pops his head around the corner and waggles his eyebrows at me.

 

“I do. What can I get for it?”

 

“My undying gratitude.”

 

He holds it out to me and suggests, “How about a kiss?”

 

My stomach flutters, and I nod. He crosses the room and leans down to meet me. His lips are as soft and tantalizing as they were last night when we made out like high schoolers on the couch until we went to sleep.

 

Peeta promised we can take things slow, and he’s doing just that. He held my hand up the stairs and kissed me goodnight at my bedroom door before crossing to his own room. I woke up this morning from the most delicious dream, and I’m trying to come to grips with the twist in our relationship.

 

I’m beyond thrilled, but it’s a big change. I’m just not used to being someone’s significant other, and what Peeta and I have is intensely significant.

 

“I will never get tired of that,” he sighs as he breaks free and leaves the wrapping paper on the table with me.

 

“Where are you going?”

 

“I figured I’d wrap your present while you’re busy in here,” he calls over his shoulder. “No peeking!”

 

“I don’t have time to peek. I’m buried under a mound of presents for the hellions.”

 

“Sure is quiet around here without them, isn’t it?”

 

“Not with us yelling across the house to each other,” I retort and can hear him laugh from the other room.

 

My phone rings, and I realize I haven’t told Prim what’s happened. I forgot to call her after Peeta’s return sent her scurrying home, and I’m sure she’s impatient to know if her sister is emotionally devastated or newly in love.

 

“Hi, Prim. Sorry I didn’t call.”

 

“Hey. What going on? Everything okay?” she whispers as if Peeta can hear her through the phone in another room.

 

“Well…”

 

“Oh my word, Katniss. Don’t tease me,” she hisses. “Are you okay? Is Peeta gone? Tell me, tell me, tell me!”

 

I can’t help but laugh at her eagerness, and I’m quick to put her mind at ease. “I’m fine, Peeta’s here, and we’re together.”

 

She shrieks so loudly I’m surprised Peeta doesn’t actually hear her from the other room. I twist my finger in my ear to try to get hearing back and listen to her babble.

 

“Praise the Lord! You’ve finally seen the light, and Peeta… Finally, Peeta!”

 

“I might still be a tiny bit miffed at you for not telling me he was into me,” I warn her, but she scoffs.

 

“You should be mad at him for swearing me to secrecy,” she argues. “I told him I’d be happy to spill the beans if he wasn’t brave enough to tell you himself, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Peeta’s just as stubborn as you are in his own way. I guess that’s good since that means he stuck around over the years when you thought you were just friends.”

 

“I can’t believe Gale knew and didn’t say something.”

 

“You and I both know Gale’s the strong, silent type. He wasn’t going to out a guy, anyway.”

 

“Well, what about the girls? You’d wouldn’t think they’d be able to keep a secret.”

 

She pauses for a few seconds. “I’m not sure they knew. I don’t think Gale or I ever said anything around them. They just love Peeta so much they automatically called him Uncle Peeta. I don’t think they can imagine you without him. You’ve lived together their whole lives.”

 

I realize with a start that Prim’s right. It’s amazing I didn’t figure out his feelings for me before now, but I still don’t really understand it. It’s hard to believe that anyone cares about me the way he claims to, but I’m hoping I’ll be able to accept it more readily eventually.

 

“So…?” she says, and I wait for her to continue. It’s several seconds before she finally bursts out with, “So, how is he?”

 

“Primrose Everdeen Hawthorne, I am a lady. I don’t kiss and tell.” She’s not even remotely put off by my mock outrage and hints a little harder. Finally, I admit, “Although it is absolutely none of your business, he is a fabulous kisser.”

 

“And?”

 

“And we are taking it slowly, and you are my baby sister. No, no, no.”

 

I can practically hear her pouting through the phone. “Spoilsport. You’ll crack eventually.”

 

“Just because you have no filter about your personal life doesn’t mean I’ll tell you everything. Keep dreaming, sister.”

 

“Is that Prim?” Peeta asks from the doorway. When I nod, he holds his hand out, and I pass him the phone. “Primrose. Yes, my dear. Yes, I finally did. Now, if you’ll excuse us, I’m about to take your sister out to dinner, if she’ll agree. Yep, first official date. ’Bye, Prim. Yes, we’ll see you in a few days. I adore you too. Good night.”

 

I bite my lip to keep from laughing and take back my phone. “You are a master with words.”

 

He leans in to kiss me and murmurs against my lips, “I’m a master of other things too, but right now I want to feed you. Dinner?”

 

I nod and wrap my arms around his neck to pull him back for one more kiss.

 

“Absolutely yes.”


	22. Travel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Travel

 

 

 

“What are you doing?”

 

Peeta jumps a foot and turns to me with a chagrined look. “I didn’t hear you come in. Hi, sweetheart.”

 

“Hi. Again, what are you doing?” I ask with a wave of my hand at the pile of stuff on his bed.

 

“Uh, I’m packing.”

 

“Why is that? Am I missing something? I thought you were staying here for Christmas.”

 

My voice cracks on the last word, and I try not to panic. Why’s he leaving? Was he trying to sneak out without telling me? What’s happening?

 

“I am. Don’t freak out,” he says as he crosses to me and pulls me into a soothing hug. His lips press against my neck, and I sigh as my body relaxes in his arms.

 

“That feels amazing. Keep talking.”

 

“Yeah? You like that?” he asks, and I shiver as his breath whispers against my skin.

 

“Uh huh, I like it,” I whimper. “Peeta…”

 

His mouth finds mine, and his tongue sweeps inside. He moans in the back of his throat, and I slide my hands under the hem of his sweater. I trace my fingertips slowly up and down the warm skin on his stomach and can feel his muscles contract under my touch.

 

“Oh, hell,” he grunts as he pulls back. I blush as he shifts and turns to adjust himself. “We have to stop, or I’m never going to get out of here. I’m sorry, Katniss.”

 

“So, you _are_ leaving me? Why?”

 

“I’m just going home for the night. I’ll be back tomorrow,” he assures me. “My dad called earlier today and asked if I could make it home for dinner and gifts. I told him yes if I can leave in the early afternoon. I’ll be back for dinner tomorrow night.”

 

“But—”

 

“You can come with me. I don’t know why the hell you’d want to because my mom’s a nightmare, but you’re welcome. You know you are.” He practically trips over the invitation, but I’m already shaking my head by the time he’s done.

 

“That’s…that’s okay. No, go home. See your family. I’m supposed to go caroling tonight with my mom and sister anyway.”

 

“I should have told you when he called. I didn’t think about it, and now I feel like a jerk,” he offers in explanation. “New relationship hiccup.”

 

“You’re about the furthest thing from a jerk a person can be,” I murmur and wrap my arms around him again. His hands slide downward until they’re resting on the curves of my hips, and he backs me up against the wall and presses into me. He captures my mouth again and nudges it open, nibbling on my top lip as he kisses me.

 

“You…taste…so…good,” he pants in between each caress. “I…want…to…devour…you.”

 

I’m burning inside, so it’s probably a good thing Peeta has some control. We have a million more things to work out as we feel our way through this, and moving slowly is getting harder after the date we had the previous night. Candlelight and wine and a night walk in the snow as Christmas lights twinkled. He’s pampering me, and it makes me want to jump him.

 

“More,” I plead, and he palms my breast over my shirt. I’m not sure the noise I make is entirely human, but I’m also not sure either of us care. He nudges my legs apart with his knee and presses closer.

 

“Katniss,” he breathes, and I feel him against my inner thigh. “You’re so… This is…”

 

His phone rings on the bed, but it takes several seconds for either of us to notice. He tells me to ignore it, but whoever it is calls back two more times. With a curse, Peeta rips himself away from me and answers.

 

“What do you want, Mom?” Peeta half-barks, and I concentrate on my weak knees so I don’t slide to the floor. “Sorry. Yes, I’m leaving soon. I know this is unusual. Yes, I know I always come home for the holidays. This year is different. I’ll tell you when I get there. Yes, I have news. Okay, Mom. Yes, Mother. See you soon.”

 

When he hangs up, I mumble, “Nothing like a call from your mom to ruin the mood.”

 

He chuckles and tosses the phone back on the bed. “She has a way of making men shrivel, that’s for sure.”

 

I bark with laughter, and he grins wryly. I help him finish tossing in the last few items he needs for one day away and walk with him to the front door. He kisses me softly several times and promises he’ll let me know as soon as he makes it there safely before walking to the car and driving down the street.

 

The house feels terribly empty without him. I have another hour or so before I have to leave for caroling, so I head upstairs to change. Heat still courses through my veins from the way Peeta kissed me before he left. I glance at the bed and make up my mind in a nanosecond.

 

Peeta’s who I’ve pictured for years during self-pleasure, but now I actually know how his hands feel on my body and the way his mouth touches mine. It’s not a stretch to pretend it’s really him as I stroke myself. Jolts of electric desire radiate from my core, and I picture Peeta’s fattened pupils watching me. I don’t try to stay quiet since I know I’m alone, and I call his name repeatedly in between shouted expletives.

 

After a few minutes, I break, writhing and mewling against the sheets as relief floods me. Once it’s passed, I lie still for several minutes and enjoy the delicious feeling. As it fades, I’m filled with sadness.

 

“Hurry home, Peeta. I miss you,” I whisper to the empty house.

 

Tomorrow can’t come soon enough.


	23. Christmas Cake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Christmas Cake

 

My phone rings, and I tear my eyes away from the clock and answer it.

 

“Hi, sugar,” Peeta says, and I roll my eyes.

 

“A baking endearment? Really?”

 

He chuckles and answers, “Yeah, I tried it. It failed. You can’t blame a guy for wanting something sweet.”

 

“Where are you, anyway? I thought you were supposed to be home by now.”

 

“I was,” he answers with a sigh and anxiety sparks in my stomach. “Don’t be mad.”

 

I hate those words. I’ve always hated them. Any time someone tells me I shouldn’t be upset about something, I know I’m in for a scenario that’s going to frustrate me. Peeta’s not usually the one to make me mad, so I try to maintain my optimism. It doesn’t work for long.

 

“I can’t leave tonight,” he says, and I can almost see him cringe through the phone.

 

“What happened?” I groan and plop back against the couch cushions.

 

“It’s not even my mom this time, although I’d be happy to blame her for it. My dad took an order for a few too many cakes, and he got really overwhelmed,” Peeta explains. “You know I’ve always helped decorate the cakes the week before Christmas, and Dad didn’t think about that when he was making promises. I told him I’d stay and help him finish the last few.”

 

“Okay… But why aren’t you leaving after that?”

 

“Because we’re supposed to get snow tonight, and I’d rather not be on the roads driving into a storm.”

 

“Peeta—”

 

“I know you’re disappointed, Katniss,” he interrupts. “So am I, but I really don’t have any desire to run off the road and end up in a ditch two days before Christmas. I’ll be back tomorrow in time to meet you at church for Christmas Eve service. You know I wouldn’t miss hearing you sing this year for anything.”

 

Dejected, I agree, and we spend a few minutes exchanging sweet nothings that make me blush so deeply I must be tomato red.

 

Since Peeta won’t be back tonight, I decide to try to read in bed, but I can’t keep my mind on my book. Instead, I’m distracted by thoughts of our reunion the next day. We promised to take things slow, but nothing about our relationship makes me want to do that. I realize it’s my own fault since I was completely panicked about messing up our relationship, but Peeta’s been the same guy the entire time I’ve known him. Why would I think he’d let me down now after all these years of being my steady source of support?

 

So then, what does this mean for tomorrow? And the next day? And the day after that?

 

We’ve only kissed so far, but we’ve only been…whatever it is we’re calling this for a few days. How soon is too soon? How far do I want to go in the early stages when we’re still figuring this out? Do I have to know, or can I wing it?

 

Closing my eyes, I let the book fall to the mattress and remember the way his lips felt against my neck, his hands on my skin, his body under my fingers. A familiar weight grows between my thighs, and I allow myself the escape I used to take only rarely.

 

When I’m finished, my eyes grow heavy, and I decide to let my body dictate bedtime. In minutes, I’m under and meeting Peeta in my dreams.


	24. Church

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Church

 

 

 

“That was gorgeous,” Peeta whispers as I slip back into the pew next to him. He takes my hand and threads our fingers together as the minister begins to speak.

 

Peeta made it back just in time for the service tonight after braving the slick roads in order to keep his promise to me that we’d be together for Christmas this year. He’d been right the night before when he told me there would be snow, and I spent the better part of Christmas Eve day alternating between thanking my lucky stars that he hadn’t driven through the night and worrying about him getting back safely and on time. He’d pulled up to the church about two minutes before the service started and just in time to hear me sing my solo.

 

“Thanks for being here,” I murmur to him and nestle my head on his shoulder to listen to the sermon. I’m fighting exhaustion when the preacher says something that resonates deeply.

 

“Merry Christmas,” Reverend Heavensbee begins. “The wait is over. Advent is past, and Christmas is finally here.”

 

I sit upright and lean toward him, anxious for him to elaborate.

 

“God’s gift to humanity is here, and we remember it during this time of year. But we’re fickle, stupid beings with poor memories. In a world of bustling and rushing, we too often forget to enjoy the season. Stores stock Christmas items in September, and shoppers flock to Black Friday sales and Cyber Monday deals right after Thanksgiving. Be honest. How many of you put up your tree early and then take it down the day after Christmas?”

 

A few people twitter in the congregation, and a smattering raise their hands.

 

“Please don’t take this as a criticism of your holiday traditions. That’s not what it is at all. Just remember that Christmas is the end of the wait. It is what closes Advent, and then Christmas continues after the holiday itself. If you’re celebrating twelve days of the holiday, we’re on the first one. Anticipating and preparing is a discipline for the Christmas season, but now it’s over. Now it’s time to celebrate, to welcome the new, to embark on the adventure. Stop waiting, and Merry Christmas to each of you.”

 

I glance sideways at Peeta and notice the way his eyelashes glint in the dim light of the church. The service continues with hymns, one last reading, and lighting candles. Finally, it’s over, and he greets the girls who act as if they haven’t seen him for months instead of only a few days. They don’t seem to notice anything different between us, and he and I exchange silent looks in agreement to wait to tell them until later. Church doesn’t seem to be the place.

 

“I’ll meet you at home,” he says and pulls me in for a hug. I don’t lift my face because I want to wait until we’re alone to kiss him. We both hurry to our cars and make it to the house in record time.

 

“Welcome back,” I tell him as we walk through the door, and we only take time to remove our coats and boots before we’re in each other’s arms again.

 

His lips are heaven, gentle and warm against my chilled skin. He cradles me against him, and I lean into his sturdy frame. Our tongues slide together, and his fingers dig into my hips as we reacquaint ourselves after the short time apart.

 

“Come upstairs,” I sigh as he breaks our kiss.

 

He shakes his head and kisses me on the tip of my nose. “I promised you we’d take this slow. I’m not going to push you.”

 

“Peeta, come upstairs,” I insist.

 

“Not tonight.”

 

“Then come to the couch,” I say and tug him into the living room. “I want to talk to you.”

 

“Oh, really? What do you have to say?” he asks as he nuzzles my neck.

 

“You are my best friend, and I love you so, so much,” I begin and grin at the look of awe on his face. “I know I was an oblivious idiot for a long time, but I’m not blind now. I see you, and I see what we have together. And the wait is over.”

 

“Katniss—”

 

“No, Peeta. Listen,” I interrupt. “You heard the minister tonight. Anticipating and preparing is for a specific season. We’ve done that. We’ve tended this relationship for over a decade. Now it’s time to celebrate it.”

 

“But—”

 

“No buts,” I vow. “Now, come upstairs.”

 

Wordlessly, he takes my hand, rises from the couch, and follows me. I draw him into my room and shut the door firmly before crossing to the bed and beckoning him to me.

 

What comes next is nothing short of a religious experience. Peeta worships me with his hands, eyes, and body, and I revere him in kind. We fit together perfectly, as if we were made for each other. His skin against mine creates such heat, I feel like I’m on fire, as radiant as the sun, burning as hot as coal. Glowing embers spark between us as he enters me, and I welcome him home.

 

“I love you, Katniss,” he moans in my ear as he moves inside me.

 

“I love you, too,” I gasp in return.

 

Over and over, we become one. When I finally tip over the edge, I beg him to join me.

 

“Together,” I plead.

 

“Sweet Jesus. Yes,” he sighs. “Always.”


	25. Christmas Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Christmas Day

 

 

 

The haze lifts as my eyes blink open, and I curl into the warmth of my blankets. With a sigh, I nuzzle against the source of heat and realize it’s a person next to me in bed.

 

“Good morning,” Peeta mumbles and pulls me tighter against him. He presses against me, and I gasp at the feel of his skin against mine.

 

Last night rushes back to me, and I blush at the memory of the wanton way I responded to his hands on my body and his mouth tracing my curves. Heat builds inside me as I remember the way we joined together repeatedly throughout the night and the declarations of love we whispered in between groaned curses of completion.

 

“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” he murmurs as he nibbles along my jaw line, and I shift onto my side to slide my leg along his. He moans as my knee brushes his groin, and I release a throaty chuckle when I feel him harden against my thigh.

 

“Merry Christmas to you, Peeta,” I whisper and draw his tongue into my mouth.

 

His lips caress mine as he shifts to hover over me, his biceps flexing as he holds his weight off me and draws my legs around his waist.

 

“Tell me Santa answered my Christmas wish,” he pleads and nudges against my core. I suck in a breath and tug him closer until he teases my entrance. He drops his head to kiss me deeply, and I moan into his mouth as he shifts his hips and fills me.

 

“Christ,” I hiss as he stretches me until I think I might snap in two. He settles there, and I close my eyes and breathe in and out until I can’t stand to remain still. When I twitch underneath him, he draws out and sinks back in with a guttural moan that curls my toes.

 

We lose ourselves in each other for what feels like hours. His hands are everywhere, gentle and probing with feverish intensity as he maps my body with his long fingers. My tongue explores his mouth as he strokes deeply, hitting nerve endings I didn’t know existed but would sell my soul to satisfy.

 

“I love you so much,” he murmurs as he marks me with his kisses. “So much.”

 

“Peeta…” My voice is breathy and inconsistent as we couple. I want to tell him how much he means to me, but I can’t form words that express the intensity of what’s between us. He’s part of me, connected so deeply that we’re the same person.

 

I clench my thighs against his hips, and he rips his mouth from my skin and rolls us over. I rise above him and sigh when his eyes flutter closed. He palms my left breast and flicks his thumb over my nipple as I rock my hips and undulate in order to chase the deep feeling of belonging he provides when he’s inside me.

 

My hair falls in waves over my shoulders, and Peeta admires the way I move above him. It’s so hot in the room my skin breaks into a mist that makes my skin sparkle with perspiration. It matches the way his glows and reddens as he begs me to take him with me. When I pull him up so my breasts mash against his chest, he changes the angle, and I squeal so high I wonder if only dogs can hear it.

 

He drives me higher, and I climb the rungs eagerly until I’m with the angels—singing praises as we reach the pinnacle together.

 

“How did I get so lucky?” Peeta asks as he lifts the sweaty hair off my neck and blows on it to cool me down. Our skin sticks together as I stretch against him, and I sigh contentedly.

 

“This is the best present I’ve ever had,” I sigh and lave his chest with my tongue. I want to devour him, but I’m too limp to move.

 

He chuckles and squeezes my ass. “I want you again already,” he breathes.

 

“I can’t move,” I whimper, but I find out quickly enough that I don’t need to.

 

When he’s driven me over the brink again, he slides back up beside me and cuddles his head into my neck. His sweetness would be saccharine if it wasn’t so sincere, but he’s nothing if not genuine.

 

“I love you, Peeta,” I confess again softly. “I can’t believe you feel the same way I do.”

 

“I can’t believe you’ve finally admitted how you feel,” he teases and rolls onto his back. “I am filthy. I need a shower and some food. And then more of you.”

 

“That sounds amazing, but you might be forgetting about the fact that we’re supposed to have dinner with my family tonight.”

 

“No!” he howls. “More Christmas sex with the love of my life.”

 

I cackle and squirm as he tickles me. “I’ll give you more sex later tonight if you’re that desperate, but we have to see the girls this afternoon and evening. Prim will kill me if I don’t show up.”

 

“The Hawthorne Hellions are cockblocking their uncle Peeta. So rude.”

 

I rub my breasts against him and grin when he sucks in his breath. “I think they should know Aunt Katniss and Uncle Peeta are together now, don’t you?”

 

“Can’t we just announce it on the internet and stay naked in bed all day?”

 

“Maybe if I wasn’t starving.” My stomach rumbles loudly, and we both dissolve into giggles.

 

“Fine, fine. I’ll feed you. Now that I’ve got you, I don’t want you to waste away.”

 

After a shower, brunch, and quickie against the wall in the hallway, we’re in the car and headed to Prim and Gale’s house. The backseat is full of wrapped presents, and both of us have foolish, lovesick expressions on our faces that are sure to give us away the second we walk through the door.

 

Lily, Daisy, and Poppy streak out the door and toward our car as soon as Peeta pulls into the driveway. They throw themselves at us, and we’re surrounded by a blizzard of young, female voices.

 

“Uncle Peeta! We missed you!”

 

“You look so pretty, Aunt Katniss!”

 

“You have to see what Santa brought us!”

 

I throw a half-smile to Prim as the girls drag us into the house. My sister draws me off to the side as quickly as possible while my nieces show Peeta their Christmas gifts.

 

“You are glowing,” she hisses at me, and I make a futile attempt to wipe the smile off my face.

 

“I’m happy.”

 

Her eyes widen, and she gasps, “You and Peeta did it! Oh my goodness! Oh my gawwwd! Last night?”

 

“Shh! I don’t want the girls to hear,” I warn her.

 

“I bet it was amazing,” she rhapsodizes. “I bet he’s incredible to you. He’s been crazy about you for so long. Tell me!”

 

“I’m not going to tell you,” I mumble and try to pull away from her.

 

“Katniss Everdeen, you spill it to your sister!” she cries and pushes me into the hall. “Now talk!”

 

Unable to keep a straight face, I blush and duck my head. “It was…earth-shattering. He’s extraordinary.”

 

She squeals and engulfs me in a hug. “I’m so happy for you! You deserve every good thing, and Peeta’s the sweetest, kindest, best man I know besides Dad and Gale. Everything’s worked out so well.”

 

“Aunt Katniss!” The girls streak around the corner and jump on me. “You and Uncle Peeta are in love?”

 

Peeta pokes his head around the corner with a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry,” he mouths. “It slipped out.”

 

I sweep the hair off Lily’s forehead, hug Daisy, and secure Poppy on my hip. “That’s right, hellions. Uncle Peeta and I love each other the same way your mommy and daddy do.”

 

Peeta joins me, and they dance around us like a maypole. Gale stands in the corner with a stern expression on his face, but even he crosses to us and shakes Peeta’s hand. When he kisses me on the cheek, he whispers, “Congratulations, Katniss. Really happy for you and Mellark.”

 

Later that night, we slip away and return to our home where Peeta and I celebrate Christmas alone. As we lay tangled together buried in a pile of blankets and pillows with a fire in the fireplace, I kiss the underside of Peeta’s jaw.

 

“Happy?” he asks, and I blink back tears of joy.

 

“Completely.”

 

“I know Christmas will always be a little sad for you because of your father, but I hope I can help make them good from now on.”

 

I stare into his turquoise eyes, so gentle and bright, and lean forward to kiss him.

 

“No more blue Christmases,” I promise.

 

“Unless it’s blue glitter.”

 

I shake my head and chuckle against his bare chest. “You do love glitter, don’t you?”

 

“Glitter’s underrated. I like to sparkle.”

 

“So do I,” I whisper as I roll him on top of me. “Make that happen.”

 

“Santa already came,” he teases.

 

“So has Mrs. Claus. Make it happen again.”

 

“Ho ho ho,” he chuckles, and we spend the rest of Christmas giving and receiving the gift of each other.


End file.
